Portrait of the Kazekage
by Surreptitious Chi X
Summary: As the eldest son in the family, Kankuro insists on bearing responsibilities for his father that his siblings don't. One month before the Chunin Exam is scheduled to start in Konoha, Kankuro finds out how important his responsibilities are. He sees a side of his father that no one but his mother has ever known.
1. Chapter 1

**Portrait of the Kazekage**

* * *

Kankuro watched his father work for a few moments in silence, waiting with his arms crossed. Outwardly, he was stoic.

He'd been an adult in the shinobi world for two years. Suna was a traditional village, and in a traditional ninja village, a shinobi was an adult when they graduated the Academy. He was aware that the Hidden Leaf Village had changed the rules so that one of their ninjas was considered an adult when they became a chunin. That didn't change the fact that in his own village, he was a grown up and acted like it. He hated that he'd become a 'child' again just by crossing some boundaries when he went to the Chunin Exam in a month. Kankuro was not looking forward to visiting Konoha.

But that wasn't why he was here. He was standing in his father's office because if he didn't stand here and visibly remind his father there was somewhere else to go, his father would work all the way through the night. Kankuro was fed up with waking up to see his father munching last night's leftovers. It was not normal to eat leftovers from last night's dinner at the breakfast table, nor was it normal to have dark circles under one's eyes, magnetism release or not. He was sick of those jokes.

His father had meekly relented when Kankuro said he'd come around at the office every day by six o'clock. All his father had said was, "That would be fine, son."

So now Kankuro was glancing at the clock, listening to the scratch of his father's pen, and watching the way the desk lamp illuminated his father's face, emphasizing the frown of concentration.

Even frowning, his father's face was beautiful. Kankuro couldn't help but notice; he was an artist. He learned the traditional theatrical arts, he could sculpt puppets out of wood, sketch things from life with pencil and paper and a little concentration. He was teaching himself how to paint, too. It was slow going, but he was getting the hang of it between missions, and then he would paint a portrait of his father.

That was a secret, of course. Kankuro was self-conscious about letting anyone watch his learning curve, and he didn't want to demand studio time from his father until he was absolutely sure that he could get it right. He wanted the painting to come out right and prove that his father hadn't wasted the time. Although Kankuro knew his father would never tell him so, he knew his father was very time-conscious. One had to be as Kazekage.

So even though Kankuro was outwardly stoic, on the inside, he was tracing the lines of his father's face with his eyes, mentally preparing himself for his goal. An artist had to observe before doing. Without careful observation, the subtle characteristics that made each object and each person unique would be lost in the attempt to immortalize it. And Kankuro wanted to make sure his father never died. That was what artistry was all about.

Yondaime glanced up from the document he was preparing. "I'm sorry, son. It'll just be five more minutes. I'll finish this up, and then we can go home."

"You said that five minutes ago," Kankuro drawled. "I'm about ready to take that piece of paper out of your hands and make you put it away."

"I know, I know…" His father distractedly scanned what he'd written so far, pressing the butt of the pen against his bottom lip.

Kankuro couldn't help but smile at that. His father had that habit for as long as Kankuro could remember; when scanning something he'd written, he would tap the pen against his bottom lip or press it there. "It'll be here in the morning."

"I know," Yondaime said. "That's not the point. So will a dozen other things, so I have to finish this now. I can't afford to get behind in what I'm doing…"

Kankuro knew that if his mother were alive, this would be her job. But she wasn't, so here he was. It was that way all over; everyone had always pitched in extra to get done what needed to be done, in terms of the household and each other. As far as Kankuro knew, single parent households were like that.

The only person not helping out was Gaara, and that was just because Gaara was convinced everyone hated him and was determined to hate everyone back.

"Dad, can someone else do that?" Kankuro asked patiently.

"Someone could…" Yondaime admitted reluctantly. He stopped and glanced up at Kankuro in alarm. "But I have no idea if they would do it right, and I don't want to have this reappear on my desk at some point because someone else couldn't fill it out properly. I should do it myself and save someone else the trouble anyway, since it's my responsibility."

Kankuro was amused. "It's called trust, Dad. Trust the people that work for you. Go home."

Yondaime was startled. "Work for me? I'm the person that works for them. A Kazekage is a civil servant. I have to answer to everyone around me, all the time."

That was the oddest sounding interpretation of a Kazekage Kankuro had ever heard. _Wait, what? Does he really think of it that way? No wonder he's so miserable all the time! _

"Dad, people respect you," Kankuro said. "They'll do the work if you tell them to." He crossed the office and pulled on his father's sleeve. "Come on. Let's go home."

Yondaime sighed and gave his son a weary smile. "'Home' is five minutes away on the other side of the Complex."

"But it may as well be the moon if you're not willing to go there," Kankuro pointed out.

Yondaime chuckled. "Alright, son." He rose from his chair, his back popping audibly as he stretched. "I'm coming." He slipped the document into his desk, the pen into a cup on his desk with a few other writing utensils in it. "We're going home."

Kankuro stuck his hands in his pockets and walked to the door, his father following a step behind. He entered the hall and turned, watched his father.

His father flicked the light switch, plunging the office into darkness. For a moment, Kankuro caught a glimpse of mingled relief and sadness on his father's face. Then his father turned to him and gave him a small smile. "Alright, take me home, Chakunan. Your father's been bad enough for one day. I'll stop resisting."

Kankuro snorted and shook his head. "You'll do the same thing tomorrow. That's why I have to come hound you every day."

"True," Yondaime said lightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets in imitation of Kankuro. "Very true." He followed Kankuro down the hall to the stairs that would lead them down to the ground floor of the Complex.

**xXx**

When they got home, Temari was waiting for them at the dinner table, but Gaara's seat was empty. Dinner had already been set out on the table by the kitchen staff, a cook and two serving maids that also did the dishes.

"Where's Gaara?" Kankuro asked.

Temari shrugged.

"It's for the best, anyway," Yondaime said. "I doubt that I would be a match for him tonight."

Kankuro looked at his father in concern. _That must mean he's had a really hard day. Usually he wants Gaara to be at dinner no matter what._ "Are you sure?"

Yondaime sighed. "I shouldn't push him. He's a part of this family whether he likes to admit it or not. If he wishes to run away and not come to dinner, it doesn't reflect that he's not welcome. I have made that clear. I am not sure what else I can do, Kankuro."

Kankuro was disheartened. _So you're just going to give up? _

His father and Gaara had a rocky relationship at best. Sometimes it seemed like Gaara thought they were mortal enemies or something. He couldn't understand it; his father always spoke softly to Gaara, and in fact, seemed to give Gaara whatever Gaara wanted. Kankuro had never seen his father even attempt to discipline Gaara. His father hesitated to voice an objection to anything Gaara said or did unless it had to do with Gaara picking on Kankuro or Temari.

"Well, I want him to be here," Kankuro told Temari. "So you better tell me where he is."

"He's on the roof," Temari said, giving in to Kankuro with exasperation. "Where else do you think he would be? He practically lives there. He's like a bird."

"If you know where he is, why did you shrug when I asked you where he was?" Kankuro asked.

"Because Dad's right," Temari said. "It doesn't matter. He's not going to come down. He told me so before he went up there. He's not going to have dinner."

"Well, that's just not acceptable," Kankuro said patiently. Then he wondered why he sounded like the mom in this situation. Temari was the girl, after all.

Yondaime squeezed Kankuro's shoulder. "Let it go, son. I'll make sure there is food waiting in his room and in the refrigerator when he comes down."

Kankuro looked from Temari to their father. "Okay." _But only because my stomach's growling and this conversation is stupid. _

He sat down when his father did, and they began dinner without his little brother. _  
_

"Now tell me about your day," Yondaime said. He ate a bite of chicken and waited patiently. Unlike Gaara thought, it wasn't an order; not the do or die kind.

Kankuro gave his father a weak smile. "Nothing much, right, Temari? Just a D-ranked mission with Baki."

Temari sighed. "It was stupid. Dad…when do we get to kill people?"

Yondaime choked on his next bite of chicken. "Um…well…soon." He looked disconcerted and vaguely unhappy. Then he grinned and allowed himself a chuckle. "You are so much like your mother. You would wish that we were at war simply for the chance to exercise your talents, wouldn't you?"

Temari shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't make a war, but if one were on, I'd kind of feel more comfortable, yeah. I mean, is this what being a ninja is about? Hanging up other people's laundry and finding lost pets?"

"The first missions are always the hardest," Yondaime said gently.

"But I've been through this before," Temari complained. "It's like going back to the beginning."

"It's only to give Gaara time to acclimate to a team environment," Yondaime said. Visible sadness washed over the other emotions in his eyes, and he ate in silence.

Kankuro was concerned. "What about your day?"

Their father didn't seem to hear him. Yondaime ate his chicken and vegetables unhappily, staring at his plate.

Kankuro hated days like these. But he'd never hate his father. It wasn't his dad's fault. It was a lot of things. Being Kazekage seemed like being slowly crushed underneath a boulder. He hated his dad's job. He hated his mom's death. He hated the way Gaara to clung to pain inflicted in the past, even though he could understand it. What happened to his little brother was horrible. It was. It just didn't do any good to hurt people in retaliation because of it. If Kankuro tried to go around hurting everyone because of stuff that had happened to him, he'd never find time to do anything else.

After dinner, the serving maids cleared the dishes away and disappeared into the kitchen. In half an hour, they would be off duty in their quarters for the day. The Kazekage mansion had a servant's wing, like all traditional mansions. Though there weren't many people in it compared to in the First Kazekage's time.

Everyone went upstairs, their father carrying a plate of food to Gaara's room before retreating. Kankuro considered going up to the roof to try to coax Gaara down, but decided to let his little brother have his space. Gaara didn't go to the roof and refuse to come down unless Shukaku was cranky. Kankuro was more aware of the demon's moods than Gaara thought he was.

Kankuro took a shower, scrubbed his face paint off, and changed into a black t-shirt and loose pajama pants. He went down the hall to tell his father good night – a ritual he observed from his childhood, even if Temari and Gaara didn't usually bother with the courtesy – and stopped in his tracks when he realized his father's chakra signature wasn't in his father's bedroom.

Instead, his father was downstairs. Alone.

Kankuro walked down the stairs and crept through the darkened house to the living room. A couple lamps were on, casting the room in a subdued golden glow. His father sat on the sofa, reclined with a glass of plum wine. Kankuro had never seen his father drink before; he knew his father probably did, like most adults in Suna, but witnessing it had been another thing.

He watched as his father took a slow, long sip of plum wine, much the way people took drags from a cigarette. A lazy release of tension, self-absorbed in one's own thoughts.

Kankuro knew that his father had to be aware he was standing here. His father was always aware of surroundings. He convinced himself that the awkward silence was only on his part.

"Dad…what's up?" Kankuro asked quietly.

His father shrugged one shoulder and took another sip of plum wine, then swirled the remainder in his glass, a reflexive little motion that seemed like a habit. "You should go to bed. Been a long day. For everyone."

"Why?" Kankuro asked. "So you can get drunk where I don't see you?"

Yondaime gave him a look. "Son…"

"Since when do you solve your problems with alcohol?" Kankuro asked, resisting his ingrained urge to do exactly what his father told him. No way was he going to leave when his father looked like this.

"Solve –" Yondaime looked startled, then snorted. A smile spread across his face. "I don't solve my problems with alcohol. Nothing can solve my problems."

Kankuro hid a wince. His father's words struck him like a blow to the gut.

"Coping," Yondaime said. "It's called coping, Kankuro. No more." He studied the deep maroon liquid in his glass.

"Fine," Kankuro said, outwardly patient and calm. "When did you start coping with alcohol?"

"I started drinking when I was twelve," Yondaime said. "A sensei introduced me to the stuff. After a tough mission, he said, plum wine is the best cure. Takes the edge off."

"How is that possible?" Kankuro asked. "I thought people weren't allowed to drink until they were sixteen years old. Your sensei broke the law?"

"You're not legally allowed to drink on your own until you're sixteen years of age," Yondaime said. "That's the distinction. It's the purchase and solo consumption of alcohol that's prohibited."

"Right, because after you're sixteen it's magically safe," Kankuro said.

His father gave him a look. "No…it's merely allowed. When you are sixteen I will no longer judge what you wish to do when you are alone and have had a bad day."

"I heard it's a bad idea to drink alone at any age," Kankuro retorted.

Yondaime wavered. "True."

"So let me join you," Kankuro said. "Then I'm not drinking alone, and neither are you. It's safe and legal."

Yondaime snorted. "At times like this, I appreciate the distinction."

Kankuro tilted his head, confused.

"Between 'safe' and 'legal'," his father explained.

Kankuro shook his head. He crossed over to the sofa and sat down.

"Well, if you want to join me, you need to bring a glass," Yondaime said. He looked amused. "The cupboard on the right side of the sink, top shelf. You should find wine glasses in there. Unless they've magically moved since I looked at them last. Wouldn't be the first time something changed…without my permission." He took another sip of plum wine.

Kankuro rose, uneasily absorbing his father's words. _The Council undermined you about something. That's why you're upset. _He walked into the kitchen and retrieved a wine glass. They sat where his father said they did. He came back and sat on the sofa beside his father again, the bottle of plum wine between them half empty.

"They were still there," Kankuro said.

"What?" His father was startled. He looked up from his now-empty glass.

"The wine glasses," Kankuro said.

"Oh." Yondaime considered that. He frowned and muttered, "At least something is where I left it." He took the cork out of the bottle and poured Kankuro a glass of plum wine, coordinated and graceful in spite of the signs of intoxication Kankuro could see growing in his father's demeanor. Yondaime refilled his own glass and stared at it. "This is a bad idea. I'm going to do it anyway."

Kankuro was tempted to ask why, and also tempted to take the rest of the plum wine away from his father. But he didn't want his father to be angry with him.

Yondaime took a first sip of his new glass and confided in Kankuro, "You know, I've said that about so many things. I wonder why I bother. Why don't I just run away? I used to ask myself that. I stick around. That's what my problem is."

Kankuro considered whether or not he'd be able to help if he drank himself into the state his father was in. But, he couldn't just sit here without drinking anything. His father would notice. And he was a little curious. So he took a tiny sip. Sweetness and rich plum taste exploded in his mouth. Then his mouth burned, tingling. The feeling followed down his throat and made his chest and stomach warm from the inside out. "This is like hot chocolate on steroids," he blurted.

His father burst out laughing. "It is! It is indeed. I never thought of it that way." He looked at his glass, seeming enormously cheered up by Kankuro's observation. "I love plum wine. Don't you? It makes the world so much easier. If I ever have a really bad day, I can just have a glass of plum wine, and everything's okay. Again…"

Kankuro was worried. _'A' glass? What does it mean when you need two? Or however many it's been?_ He didn't know when his father started drinking, or how much had been in the bottle of plum wine at the start of the evening.

"How come you're drinking tonight?" Kankuro asked gently. He took another sip of plum wine. It burned less this time. He was getting used to it, or his mouth was already coated. "What happened today at the Council meeting that's got you so upset?"

"We're going to war," his father answered automatically. Then he sucked in his breath and looked at Kankuro with wide eyes. "Don't tell anyone I said that. It's not public news yet. It's not – not supposed to be – " He sucked in his breath again. Kankuro realized with a start his father was trying to avoid crying. " –public knowledge."

"I won't," Kankuro said. He put together his father's comment to Temari with alarm. "But how come we're going to war?"

"I can't fathom that myself," Yondaime said, sounding both bitter and close to tears. He swallowed and visibly reined himself in. "They think it's the way to solve the economy."

"Oh." Kankuro considered that, disheartened. "I learned about that at the Academy in history class. War kicks production into high gear, and generates more missions. Some people think war is good for the economy, and if we stayed in a state of war for a long time, we'd be a prosperous nation."

Yondaime nodded, moaned, and drank a sip of his plum wine. "It's awful." He looked at Kankuro with pain in his eyes. "I worked so hard. And they've thrown it all away."

"It wasn't your decision?" Kankuro was surprised. _Why do you feel guilty, then?_

"The Council is the one who can declare war, not me," Yondaime said. "I can't – can't do anything." His voice tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His hand trembled, and Kankuro plucked the wine glass from it, shifting forward and setting it on the kotatsu table. His father didn't seem to mind – or even notice.

Kankuro discarded his own wine glass and pulled his father into his arms, hugging his father and trying to help, even though they hadn't hugged more than a few times in the past two years. His father had largely stopped after his graduation from the Academy. That had hurt; even though Kankuro knew it was normal for their culture.

Yondaime burst out crying; loudly, like a child. "I promised her I wouldn't do it! I said I would never let our nation be at war again! I promised."

Kankuro rocked his father, alarmed. _Mom?_

"I told her I would never let it happen, never let us go to war. I didn't know. I didn't know then what I know now. How…How the Council makes the decisions. I didn't think I'd –" Yondaime hugged Kankuro tightly, clutching Kankuro to his chest. "Kankuro, I'm so sorry!" He wept, overcome.

Kankuro felt tears in his own eyes. He rubbed his father's back, doing what he could from this position, unable to move much when his father held onto him so tightly. "It's alright. I forgive you. I'm not upset…"

"They didn't even ask me." His father sounded like a hurt child. "They just decided it last week and came to tell me. We're – We're at war."

Kankuro wondered how he was ever going to keep this from Temari, Gaara, and Baki. He was terrible at keeping secrets from them.

"She would be so upset at me," Yondaime said. The lost unhappiness of that statement stuck Kankuro between the ribs like a kunai.

"No, she would not," Kankuro said firmly. "She would understand like I do. None of this is your fault."

"But I should have stopped them…" Yondaime trailed off in confusion, uncertainty tingeing his statement. He straightened and looked at Kankuro in apprehension. "If I'd just known they were considering war. I thought they'd never think of such a thing. I mean…how could they? We just got out of a war. What about making the world safe for our children? We…made so many speeches…" He looked pale and sick. "What about the children?"

Kankuro winced, knowing that alcohol could not have been worse for his father right now. He was hard pressed to keep up with his father's twisted logic and self-recriminations. "What about the children? What do you mean?"

His father sniffled, and almost hiccupped. His breath hitched dangerously. "I –In…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "In the Chunin Exam."

"What do you mean?" Kankuro pressed. He couldn't help but be horrified. He felt like he was uncovering an assassination plot or something, not an official government decision.

"In the Chunin Exam," his father said, his voice breaking. Tears escaped his control and dripped down his cheeks. "In the Chunin Exam." He sucked in his breath. "Is when we're supposed to attack them."

"Wait, what?" Kankuro protested. "I thought you were talking about going to war with Iwagakure!" _This doesn't make any sense. He can't be talking about attacking Konoha. They're our allies! Iwa is barely our ally even on paper!_

Yondaime burst out crying.

"That's insane," Kankuro said desperately, instinctively trying to argue even though the men he wanted to argue with weren't here. "The Leaf outnumber us three to one. We're smaller than them!"

"I know," his father moaned, shaking his head. "I know."

"What a bunch of old bastards!" Kankuro exclaimed.

Yondaime nodded, tears running down his cheeks. "I know…I know…I…Oh, Kankuro. Karura. Will she ever forgive me? What do you think? Do you think so?"

"Dad, Mom could never be mad at you for this kind of thing." Kankuro instantly went back to rubbing his dad's back. Regardless of the fact that he felt like it was true, he would have said it even if his mother was the kind of person who would get mad. You didn't tell a drunk, grieving person their dead spouse was angry with them.

His father clung to him. "Karura, why do you forgive me? Why do you always forgive me? I am trash. My father was right. I'm no good…no good…"

Kankuro was so horrified he felt hot pressure in his stomach. _What? No way…What kind of father…? _"I'm sure that he…ah…didn't mean it."

He hated himself for not being able to inject his voice with any confidence. His paternal grandfather had been a harsh, frightening man, all hard angles and cold patriarch attitude. The old man died last summer, and it was like a weight lifting off the family. Whenever Kankuro had seen his father and grandfather together, his father always had a look on his face like his arm had been twisted off.

Still, Kankuro had thought that was just the face his father made after talking about politics. His grandfather's favorite subject.

"He did!" Yondaime laughed through his tears. His voice grew soft. "He hit me. He called me a bastard. He told me I'd never amount to anything. I'd be a failure." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Just like he predicted." He shook his head. "Just like he predicted. Father's right. I'm a failure. I failed…failed to do anything right. I'm no better than he predicted."

"Oh my god," Kankuro blurted. He looked at his father with new eyes, seeing every detail of his father's face as another piece of proof in this history of abuse. It was easy, with his father's masks ripped off by alcohol. "Dad…you know this is wrong. Did you ever tell anybody what he did to you?"

Yondaime nodded, suddenly looking tired. "I told Karura. She said…yes. Anyway." Tears welled up in his eyes again. "I don't know why."

Kankuro hugged his father as if by hugging with all of his strength could protect his father from what had already happened. He rubbed his father's back. "She loved you."

"Shame of shames," Yondaime murmured. "I can't rise above…I'm better off…" He shook his head. "No, she wouldn't let me do that either. How –" He stopped. "I'm sorry. Sorry…" He gripped Kankuro's arms, making Kankuro straighten, and stood up unsteadily. "I'm going to bed…" He took a step back.

Kankuro leapt up from the couch and grabbed him. "Don't run away. You don't have to run away."

His father looked shocked.

"I'm fourteen," Kankuro said, as if that explained everything. It did to him. _I'm a man. I can handle it. _

His father blinked, confused, his brow furrowing. "Kankuro…"

"I love you," Kankuro said, wondering if he really had to spell it out.

Yondaime inhaled sharply and hugged Kankuro, collapsing against him and clinging. "I'm sorry. I love you, too. Kankuro…always love you. I should have…"

"No," Kankuro said gently. "Everything is alright. You did what you had to do. You've been through a lot. Don't judge yourself." He had no idea what his father was trying to talk about, but that didn't matter. He knew he was right to say what he did, no matter what the circumstances were.

"It's too late," Yondaime said. "Isn't it?"

"No," Kankuro said. "It's never too late." He tugged on his father gently. "Let's go to bed. I'll go with you. We'll go together."

Yondaime obediently let Kankuro lead him from the room.

Kankuro was relieved. He didn't know what he'd do if his father decided to fight him. He wouldn't stand a chance, for one thing. His father was several levels stronger than him, a Kage-level jonin versus a genin who might have the stuff to become a chunin.

_Wait. Does this mean I'm not going to take the Chunin Exam after all?_ The idea made Kankuro's head spin. _We're going to attack…? In the middle of the exam? _He shoved that thought aside. He had several more important things to think about at the moment. One of them being his drunk father.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Kankuro ended up hooking his father's arm over his shoulders to help his father up the stairs. Yondaime was getting progressively less coordinated. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, his father was breathing heavily and clinging to him. Kankuro had the horrifying thought that this would be the perfect fate-screws-you-over moment for Gaara to come down from the roof and find them.

It didn't happen.

The house was eerily silent and normal while Kankuro walked down the hallway to his father's bedroom, supporting his father's weight the entire way. It was the same bedroom his father had since Kankuro was little. As Kankuro opened the door and helped his father into the room, flicking the lights on, it occurred to him that this was a reversal of all the times his father had carried him into this room to save him from his nightmares.

To Kankuro, Yondaime would always be that man: the father who held him as a child, the pale and sleep-deprived man who had stayed up all night to keep him company while he cried over a nightmare he couldn't remember. The man who'd let him eat a breakfast of rice and eggs in bed, snuggled up under big-people covers, safe by his father's side. The man who had taken him to work several times when he'd been too anxious to stay at home with the servant staff. And their father had done the same for Temari. At one point in the Kazekage office, there was a corner with a small table devoted to Yondaime's children, complete with toys from home, scrolls, and ink, so they could imitate their father's job. Kankuro had spent a lot of days that would otherwise have been lonely and uncomfortable writing fake reports for his father to read and stacking them on top of his father's real work, naively demanding attention.

Looking back on it, he was amazed that he'd gotten what he asked for. His father had always read his 'report' with the same solemn attention he gave real reports. After he finished reading it, his father would nod, say something like, 'Thank you for telling me. I'll get right on it, Captain Kankuro'.

And he would. Even if Kankuro had written something as silly as 'Before we go home I want ice cream', they'd negotiate about it and work something out. For instance, if their father didn't want to buy ice cream from a vendor, they'd stop by the market and pick up a carton of ice cream for the house, instead. Furthermore, Yondaime saved those childish reports somewhere. Kankuro remembered coming across a whole box of them last year in his father's downstairs study.

Of course, when Kankuro turned eight, he'd had to go to school instead of hanging around Yondaime's office. The number of times he visited dropped to when he had days off from school for the holidays. Then, after he'd graduated, nothing. He was too old, too tall and strong and mature, to sit at a tiny table composing distracting things for his father to read. And by that time, he understood that his father had too much work to do already.

Kankuro shook himself out of his recollection and helped his father cross the room. Yondaime stumbled against him. "Sorry," Kankuro whispered.

Yondaime shook his head. "Don't be…don't be sorry. Please don't be sorry."

Kankuro wondered if his father had understood he was talking about making his father stumble. Probably not. He reached the large four poster bed and folded the covers down, exposing crisp white sheets underneath the dark red blanket. Then he patted the exposed space on the bed. "Come on, Dad, time to go to bed."

Yondaime didn't look like he knew what to do.

Kankuro gently turned him and guided him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"I wanted to be better than this," Yondaime said. "I'd hoped…" He breathed out, his breath rich with the fragrance of plums. "I wanted to be a better father."

Kankuro blinked. _A better father than who?_ Then he slid the pieces together. "No!" he protested. "No, Dad, you are nothing like him. You're way better than your father was to you."

Yondaime's breath hitched, and he blinked away tears. "I want to believe you. But I…" His gaze drifted to the framed portrait of Karura on his nightstand.

Kankuro glanced over and immediately laid the framed picture flat on its face, hiding Karura from view. _Sorry, Mom. Just for tonight. You're not doing any good right now. _

"Karura does not think that you are anything like your dad. She despised your dad. She could never despise you," Kankuro said firmly, hoping that using his mother's name would drive home what he was saying a little more in his father's inebriated state.

Yondaime sat and cried for a few moments. When he realized he was crying, he hid his face in his hands, sniffling and whimpering.

Kankuro hated that sound. It felt like someone was trying to grind his heart under their heel. He sat down beside his father and held him, wrapping his arms around his father's shoulders. "Hey…stop that. You don't have to hide from me."

Yondaime lowered his hands and leaned his head against Kankuro's shoulder, tears dripping silently. Long minutes passed in silence. Then he said in a tiny voice, "I'm sorry."

Kankuro reached out and opened the top drawer of the night stand, hoping his father left tissues in there. _Yep, there's the tissues_. A package of fluffy white tissues, already opened. Kankuro shifted, leaning forward, and grabbed the open pack of tissues.

His fingers brushed against the smooth surface of a plastic bottle, and he heard it tip over when he pulled out the tissues. He looked in time to see a gleam of peach pink. "Sorry!" He leapt to his feet. "I'll leave everything like I left it." His first thought was that he would be mortified if his father had left the bottle of whatever it was open – hand lotion? – and Kankuro had just spilled it all over the drawer.

He handed his father the tissues without looking and straightened up the contents of his father's drawer. There were two bottles of nail polish, one light pink and the other clear, a slim bottle of mascara, a tube of lipstick, a small jar of ointment for injuries…and chap stick, two opaque foil-sealed squares, and the bottle of pink stuff that Kankuro had knocked over. Fortunately, it was closed. But in making sure all the bottles and things were right side up, Kankuro had the chance to read the label on the plastic bottle he'd knocked over: '2 in 1 massage oil and lubrication'. And below that, 'Strawberry'.

Kankuro flushed. Okay, he knew his father was an adult and everything, but still. He cringed and looked to his dad.

Yondaime sat on the edge of the bed, silently and carefully blowing his nose. His head was down, and he seemed oblivious to Kankuro's discoveries.

Kankuro awkwardly sat down, leaving the drawer open. "Are…you feeling better, Tousan?"

Yondaime nodded and sniffled, then blew his nose gently. "Thank you, Kankuro. I know this has been hard on you. Always having to…to…make up for me…" He started crying again and wiped his eyes, trembling faintly.

"No, no, it's okay," Kankuro protested. "I'm glad you let me help you out with stuff. We all need to help each other. We're a family."

He tried to change the conversation to something lighter. "Heh, so, you weren't joking when you told Temari to confine her beauty supplies to her bathroom. I see you've confiscated like, four things. When did you talk to her about it? Last week? I thought she'd be a little more careful after you threatened to take things away."

Yondaime slowly crumpled up his tissue and raised his head. He looked at Kankuro with a wary expression.

Kankuro was puzzled. "Dad?"

Yondaime rose unsteadily and looked inside his open nightstand drawer. He absently discarded his tissues in the small trash bin between the night stand and his bed. Then he closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Oh…"

"Dad?" Kankuro prompted again, confused and worried. He stood up as well, steadying his father's swaying. "Do you need to throw up or something? One of my friends says that when you drink too much, you throw up sometimes. That's gross, but, um, I don't mind or anything. Do you need my help to walk to the bathroom?"

"No…" His father shook his head, his voice thick.

Kankuro wrapped his arms around his father and sat down with him on the edge of the bed again. "Hey, look, you don't have to stand anymore. You should lie down."

His father bowed his head. "You're still touching me, even after everything –"

"Of course I am," Kankuro said. "You're my father. I love you."

"Love you."

Kankuro took that as permission to put his father to bed. He had never put someone to bed before, much less an adult man. He pulled the covers down more and climbed onto the center of the bed on his knees, pulling his father into bed. That seemed easier than standing beside and pushing. Pulling was much easier. He slid his father into place, positioning his father on his back and helping tuck his father's legs under the covers. His feet clumsily caught on the blanket.

Then Kankuro pulled the covers up over the both of them and resolved to sneak out the other side of the bed, leaving his father resting peacefully.

His father reached out with more strength than Kankuro had given him credit for and grabbed a handful of black t-shirt.

Kankuro paused, caught. "Dad?"

"Son, I –" Yondaime started crying again.

Kankuro couldn't leave now. He wanted to leave when his father was calmer. He let out a breath and flopped down on his side, wrapping an arm around his father in an awkward lying down hug.

Yondaime wrapped his arms around Kankuro and clung. "Please don't leave me, I can't sleep, not knowing – what I've done – " He squeezed his eyes shut. "All the children –"

Kankuro divined immediately that his father was back to worrying about the declaration of war. He hugged his father back tightly. "You're a good man. A good person. You didn't want anything like this to happen. It's not your fault, Dad."

"Karura…"

"Loves you," Kankuro finished. He wished they weren't talking in circles, but it was hardly surprising when his father was drunk.

"Shouldn't you be going to bed?" Yondaime asked in a tiny voice, suddenly sounding more like the father Kankuro was used to, in spite of the timid tone of voice.

Kankuro assessed his options. "Nah. I'm crashing here tonight." _That way I can keep an eye on you. I don't want you trying to get out of bed or doing anything else stupid while you're like this. If I stay, I can make sure you sleep. That was the whole point of coming to get you at work in the first place. Making sure you're taking care of yourself._

Yondaime fell silent. Kankuro wondered what his father was thinking.

"Could you turn out the lights?" his father asked quietly, looking hopeful.

Kankuro suppressed a laugh. "Yeah." He climbed out of bed, turning on the lamp on the nightstand, and walked across to the door. He flicked the light switch off and walked back to his father's bed by the light of the lamp.

"You can leave that one on," his father said. He sounded calmer.

_Maybe he wants company,_ Kankuro thought. _Like I used to need it when I had night terrors about Mom._ He knew he had them only because his father had told him what they had been about when he was a little kid.

"Okay," Kankuro said simply.

He slipped back under the covers and scooted over until he was snuggling up against his dad. _I hope this helps you. I don't want you to be sad; or stay up all night thinking everything that happens is your fault._ He rested on his side, his arms around his father.

His father slipped strong, thin arms around Kankuro's waist and clung on. "I want you to know…I love you. I always did. I always loved you…"

"I know," Kankuro said softly. He'd heard downstairs, but he didn't mind hearing it again. He'd be a whole lot happier if his dad said these things every day. "I love you, too, Dad. You're the only Dad I've got. So don't mess things up trying to take yourself out of the picture. 'Cause I need you."

His father was silent. Then, in a low voice Kankuro almost didn't catch, "Need you too…Kankuro."

Kankuro shifted, getting comfortable. He rested his head against his father's shoulder and closed his eyes. _Like when I was little_. His father still smelled the same. He figured that meant his father was still using the same soap, the same shampoo, the same cologne. It was kind of funny, how his father never changed things like that. Most people's tastes changed over time, or they grew bored of the same old thing.

But here his father was, the same as over.

Kankuro whispered, "I'm here. You're here. So it's okay." He was the one that had changed, had grown up, grown almost as tall as his father, strong enough to carry him. If one of them had to change, Kankuro was glad it was him. He never wanted his father to change.

His father's breathing evened out, and Kankuro realized he had successfully soothed his father to sleep.

That was a powerful feeling.

He realized it was more than adulthood, more than responsibility. More than repaying a debt, more than equality – though he'd surely achieved that now, now that he'd found his father drinking downstairs and carried his father off to bed. No, what he felt was…

Kankuro pinpointed it: Love. Not the familial kind.

Now that he'd realized that, Kankuro wondered what to do. He couldn't leave his father here. That would be sheer cruelty after taking all the time and effort to get his father to go to sleep. And his father would take it all the wrong way in this state of mind. And he didn't want to leave. He didn't think that his feelings posed a threat.

_Well, I sure can't tell him. That's right out. Never mind that he's my dad, and if I had a really bad problem like this, I would tell him._ There was no way Kankuro was going to hit his father with something this stressful and weird to solve right after his father had a breakdown because the Council declared war. _Uh-uh. No way in hell._

Kankuro looked at his father's sleeping face, illuminated by the glow of the lamp on the nightstand. _I'll just…keep it to myself for a while. Maybe until after the Chunin Exam. Yeah, that's it. If I still feel the same way, then I'll tell him._

That line of thinking neatly avoided the realization downstairs that there might not be any Chunin Exam for him, or any promotion. He was comfortably sinking into denial._ No, everyone's going to be okay. Something will happen, and somehow, war won't happen, and I'll get to graduate to chunin, just like Gaara and Temari will, and we'll all be alright. There's not going to be any war. Something will happen._

Soothing himself with those reassurances, Kankuro fell asleep alongside his father.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Kankuro woke up before his father did. He had the chance to lie in bed and watch his father slowly regain consciousness. He lay on his side, cupping his head in his hand, propping himself up on his elbow. He was comfortable and he really didn't want to move or get out of bed, but he knew both those things were in his near future. God, he hated mornings. Why couldn't they just die?

His father let out a soft moan and shifted, stretching his legs out and turning his head to one side against the pillow. He felt the covers with clumsy fingers.

Kankuro watched with interest. He'd never had the opportunity to watch his father wake up before.

"Why am I in bed?" Yondaime mumbled.

"Because I put you here," Kankuro retorted. "What? Were you gonna pass out on the couch?"

Yondaime blinked and turned his head, taking in the sight of his teenaged son. "Oh. Hello, Kankuro."

"Hello to you, too," Kankuro said. He didn't miss the way that his father's 'I'm so cool and everything is okay' mask was back on, otherwise known as The Teasing Father.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Yondaime asked.

Kankuro narrowed his eyes at his father. "Fine. You?"

"Well…" His father cleared his throat and sat up. "I think so." He ran his fingers through his hair. His auburn hair was sticking up in all directions more than usual, mussed by his pillow. "But I can't really remember much." He glanced over at the nightstand and saw that Karura's picture was face down.

"Ah…" Kankuro scrambled out of his father's bed and righted his mother's picture. "Sorry about that. I had to…um…" He fidgeted and then gave his father a sheepish smile. "A lot of things happened last night, and one of them was that you wouldn't stop crying when you looked at Mom's picture. So I…" He gestured helplessly, pantomiming.

Yondaime folded the covers back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stopped at that explanation and glanced at Kankuro, then studied Karura's smiling face behind the glass of the frame. "Oh." His gaze slowly slid back to Kankuro.

Kankuro fidgeted again, unable to help it. The few times he'd been yelled at for something – knocking over a potted plant while chasing his cat, letting his anger getting the best of him and lashing out with his puppet inside the house, starting an argument with Temari – those times had all been preceded by this unsmiling, thoughtful look on his father's face.

"Was I trouble, then?" Yondaime asked quietly.

Kankuro's anxiety deflated, and his shoulders slumped. Now he was just sad. "No, Dad. You weren't any trouble. It was no problem."

Yondaime studied him for another moment. "Ah." He rose and stretched, walking across the room towards the door to the master bathroom. "You'll excuse me, then. I'll be right down, after I've taken a shower."

Kankuro nodded, his gaze traveling to the floor at the dismissal. He couldn't be surprised that his father didn't want to talk about it. Who would? But at the same time, he was disappointed that what they shared last night didn't leave to some greater discussion about the war, or Karura, or feelings, or anything. Anything except the implied order to go downstairs and have breakfast.

Still, he didn't have a choice, now did he? Kankuro crossed his arms behind his head and sighed, walking out. Instead of heading straight to breakfast he did a few things he didn't get the chance to do last night, like brush his teeth, brush his hair, and check on his cat.

After he got done in the bathroom, he ducked his head into his room to check there first. The gray tabby was curled up asleep on the foot of his bed. Kankuro grinned and slipped into his room, sneaking up on her. He brushed his hand over the long, soft fur of her side. "Hey, Poko. Did you miss me?"

His cat yawned and opened one eye at him, as if to say, 'No. Why did you wake me up?'

Kankuro chuckled. "Of course not." He got dressed for work and put on his face paint, using the brush blind. He knew what he was doing; he didn't need a mirror to check.

By the time he was done getting ready, he glanced over his shoulder and saw that Poko was asleep again.

Kankuro went downstairs, grinning, his mood greatly improved by visiting his cat. When he got to the dining room, Gaara was sitting in his chair, looking sulky and sleep-deprived, as usual. Temari didn't look too much awake herself, although she was munching on a piece of toast. Kankuro carefully avoided looking cheerful. No one in the house was a morning person, including him. Nothing pissed off a person awake in the morning against their will like a cheerful face.

Their father showed up after he sat down, dressed as usual in a high-collared martial arts jacket that went down to mid-calf like a trench coat, the sides slit up to his hips for range of movement.

Whenever he went to the office, he wore one of these jackets over his more casual clothes. It signaled to everyone that he was in Kazekage mode. Then, when he finally came home, he'd take the jacket off and become just a regular jonin again.

Yondaime sat down and nodded to each of his children in turn. A serving maid came in to serve both Kankuro and Yondaime their breakfast. Yondaime waited for her to retreat before saying mildly, "Good morning, my children."

Gaara sifted a hand through his hair and glared at their father.

"Morning, Dad," Temari said sleepily. She fumbled with her chopsticks and then started in on her rice and omelet.

Kankuro nodded in return. "Good morning. How did you sleep, Dad?"

"Well," Yondaime said. He gave Kankuro a small smile. "Very well, thank you."

Kankuro felt gratified, more than he knew he should. _But at least I got a thank you._ He smiled at his father in return. It didn't take a genius to know their father wouldn't mention what happened in front of Temari and Gaara. Underneath the guise of thanking Kankuro for asking the question, their father was clearly thanking him for staying last night. _Because I helped him sleep._

The smile on his lips grew, and Kankuro hastily averted his gaze to his bowl of rice, picking at it with his chopsticks.

"Gaara, would you like some medical jutsu to ease your headache?" Yondaime asked. "I know it must be painful."

Gaara clenched his jaw and sighed through his teeth. "You know nothing of pain. If you did, you would know that this is not 'painful'. This is the ever-present effect of sharing a body with Shukaku. Therefore, this feeling, as unpleasant as it may be, is part of me."

Kankuro couldn't count how many times he had heard this argument. In the beginning, he'd gone, 'What? Just take the damned medicine!' That hadn't gotten him anywhere, so now he was silent. That didn't get him anywhere either, but silent prayers for Gaara to feel better were less easily discouraged.

"Then I would like to ease the unpleasantness," Yondaime said.

"Don't," Gaara said.

Yondaime and Gaara engaged in a staring match.

Temari sighed. "Quit it. It's too early for this."

Shukaku was weakest in the morning, so no one was particularly afraid of Gaara's control slipping. Through long years, they'd all learned that Shukaku's power waxed and waned in relation to the time of day. At midnight, the demon's power peaked. Then it crested downhill, reaching an all-time low at eight o'clock, and slowly built up over the day. At nightfall, Shukaku's power spiked. This effect was magnified by the full moon.

Gaara grunted and went back to eating breakfast. "Don't bother me."

Kankuro experienced one of those moments where he wanted to strangle his brother for talking that way to their father.

Yondaime, as usual, let it go and silently started eating breakfast.

**xXx**

After work, Kankuro bounded onto the domed roof of his father's office and descended in a controlled slide to the office balcony. He gave a friendly nod to his father's two bodyguards. They hung out on the side of the building near the roof, their chakra controlled to allow them to hang around like geckoes. He received a wave in reply and let himself into his father's office through the glass door, emerging on the opposite side as the door into the office from inside the building.

His father was at the desk, surrounded by orderly stacks of paper and scrolls. He was bent over, writing something on a scroll.

Kankuro waited. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched his father write. His father's narrow, delicate features were partially illuminated by the desk lamp and partially cast into shadow. Kankuro considered the dramatic effect and thought he might ask his father to pose here while he painted that portrait he wanted to do.

His father glanced up at him, spoiling the illusion of a living portrait existing only in his silent world behind a frame. "Hello."

"It's five minutes past five," Kankuro said. "Just letting you know. I'm going to try to get you out of here as early as possible."

"And I'm going to try to stay," Yondaime said with a nod. He re-read what he'd written for a moment, eyes scanning the scroll. Then he glanced up again. "How was your mission?"

"Roof cleaning," Kankuro said. "Temari's wind jutsu was helpful, but she almost gave me sand burn a couple times. After Gaara collected the sand we knocked off overhead, he sent it back to the desert outside the north gate."

Yondaime nodded. "Good enough. Thank you. I know village maintenance cannot be an exciting mission for you all, but it is important."

"I know that," Kankuro said casually.

His father wrote for a moment more, but then he shook his head. Kankuro watched him massage the bridge of his nose, close his eyes, and frown. "I am sorry…for last night." He laid his pen down.

"I'm not," Kankuro said, hoping that blunt response would cut short whatever his father was going to say next. _Don't guilt trip yourself, please…_

"I know that what happened was terribly abusive towards you," Yondaime said. "A father should never place that kind of a burden on a child. I'm sorry, and I will make sure that it never happens again. I could not keep using you that way. It is unconscionable." He bowed his head.

Kankuro didn't know what to say.

After a moment, Yondaime sighed and started slowly writing again.

_Oh, no. This cannot be the end of the conversation_. Kankuro frowned. "Stop over-thinking it. I'm fine. And I don't think it was abusive at all. You needed me. Who else is going to be there?"

Yondaime carefully put down his pen, watching the ink drying on the scroll for a moment, and then rose. He crossed the room and gently laid his hands on Kankuro's shoulders. "That kind of thinking is exactly what I cannot encourage in you. You are naturally selfless, and would give up much for me." He sighed. "As for me, I think I must be naturally selfish, to place such a burden on my loved ones time and time again."

Kankuro tilted his head, staring at his father in confusion. _Time and time again? What is he talking about? This is the first time_. "But…but it's never happened before. I would remember if it –" He broke off at his father's head shake.

Yondaime said quietly, "During times of trouble, I often drink too much, and say too much to those I love. I make them feel responsible for me, in ways they shouldn't be. My bodyguards – notice how they treat me? I have broken down in front of them too many times. Their job is to guard me, not to spend night and day worrying about my emotional well-being."

Kankuro shrugged, frowning. "I think your emotional well-being is important."

"It is, but I am the only person responsible for it," Yondaime said. "Not you, and not my bodyguards. When Yashamaru was alive, he was also a frequent victim of my mishaps. It is so easy for me to take one wrong step, to make one wrong decision and thus lose control – It is not something I like to repeat, but I seem not to be able to help myself when situations of great pressure arise. It is a failing, and not my intention to make anyone around me bear an unbearable emotional burden."

_What about your unbearable emotion burden?_ Kankuro almost shouted in his father's face. _If you could bear it, you wouldn't drink so much and then cry all over the person who happens to be with you! That's the definition of bearing something unbearable! _

"I'm not bearing something unbearable," Kankuro growled instead, glaring at his father defiantly. "It's perfectly bearable."

His father looked taken aback, then patted his shoulders. "I am glad you think so. I must clearly stop before it is too late."

"If you need help, just ask for it," Kankuro said.

Yondaime smiled sadly. "I would if there were someone to ask."

_You mean if Mom were here,_ Kankuro wanted to retort. _You'd ask her. You'd ask her, but you won't ask us. You want her. _"There are. There are lots of people. You could ask any of us or even all of us to help you." Kankuro took a deep breath. "All you have to do is ask. Do I mind what happened last night? Of course not. You're my Dad."

"Fathers shouldn't hurt their children," Yondaime said.

_He thinks he hurt me? How?_ "How did you hurt me?" Kankuro demanded. "I'm not hurt!"

"You may not see it now, but this is inappropriate," Yondaime said. His father's voice was heavy. "You cannot be expected to take care of me. You cannot…" His voice softened, and he reached up hesitantly to cup Kankuro's chin. "You cannot take your mother's place. You are Kankuro, not Karura. You mustn't –" He shook his head earnestly. "You mustn't tread such treacherous ground. My son, you must be yourself."

Kankuro's brow furrowed, and he looked at his father with wide eyes. It was almost impossible for his father to talk about his mother. _He's really serious._ Then Kankuro's heart skipped a beat. _Wait. What if he senses somehow what my feelings turned into last night? _

His father was uncannily perceptive about people. That was why, ordinarily, it was impossible for the Council to gain an upper hand. The Council's combined willpower and wits was matched by Yondaime's in a perfect deadlock, one man against many.

Which was also why Kankuro held out home that somehow, his father could avert the war that was so desperately unwanted.

"I want you to be yourself," Yondaime whispered. He continued to cup Kankuro's chin. His thumb stroked Kankuro's cheek gently. "Kankuro. My eldest son."

Kankuro shivered. The touch sent a flood of tiny buzzing sensations across his skin, igniting warmth in his stomach. He knew his father's actions were meant to be innocently soothing. He couldn't help it; his body reacted to the yearned-for physical affection.

Yondaime snatched his hand back and looked at it wonderingly. "Oh. Are my hands cold? I'm sorry. You should have told me. I wouldn't have –"

Kankuro grabbed the front of his father's martial arts coat and pulled his father's mouth against his, kissing his father with more desperation than finesse. _Understand me. Please, just try to understand instead of beating yourself up. _

His father instinctively tried to pull away after the initial shock of being grabbed. He twisted in Kankuro's grasp, and his hands flew out to stop his son.

Kankuro used what he'd learned from the few times he and the girl from his first team had kissed, more as an experiment than anything sexual. They'd both been curious, and hadn't disliked each other. Nothing had come of it; just a few embarrassed observations back and forth and the understanding that at least they'd get a kiss from a future date that wouldn't suck.

Mouthing his father's lips felt entirely different. Kankuro could tell when he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of their lips meeting that he was into it. _Oh, god, what is wrong with me? I'm into this, but I wasn't into that? She was a perfectly normal, nice girl._

His father stopped struggling.

Kankuro didn't know what that meant. At the same time, he hoped it meant that maybe it felt good for his father, too. His father's mouth hadn't gone all tight and unrelenting like his teammate's had the first time they tried to kiss. But maybe that just meant his father already knew how to kiss someone – and Kankuro hoped so, he thought anyone who'd been married and had children ought to know how to kiss people.

He pulled away finally, opening his hands and releasing his father's black martial arts jacket.

His father stumbled back and caught himself on his desk. He gripped the edge of the desk with both hands and looked at Kankuro with wide eyes.

Kankuro tried a weak smile. "I love you." His father's taste was still on his lips; faintly sweet.

His father visibly took that in. He seemed to remember how to breathe. His father glanced away, breathing heavily, and touched his lips with gentle fingertips. Feeling the spot where Kankuro's lips had been.

Kankuro didn't know if that was good or bad. His stomach clenched.

Yondaime looked at him with a furrowed brow, looking more confused than anything else. "I love you, too. Why…?"

Kankuro grinned sheepishly. "Uh…heh." He prepared himself for a yelling fit. "Because I love you?"

This wasn't how he'd meant the day to go. At all. He'd wanted to restore everything back to normal between them, not have an awkward conversation about how he was trying to fill his mom's shoes and then kiss his father senseless.

Instead of anger, Yondaime's eyes shone, growing darker with the threat of tears locked behind his control. "Oh, Kankuro…"

Kankuro rubbed the back of his head and looked away. He didn't know how to respond to that. That wasn't exactly a question or anything. It was just his father saying his name like it ought to have some extra meaning in this case. He didn't think his father sounded disappointed. Just…

Yondaime crossed the space between them with long-legged strides and hugged Kankuro tightly, sheltering his son against his chest. "I don't know how this happened. But…"

_Neither do I_. Kankuro wouldn't say that, for fear it would tip over some kind of delicate balance.

"We need to talk," Yondaime said.

"Yeah," Kankuro agreed. "I guess we do." He glanced at his father warily. _Still not angry. Huh. Maybe this won't be one of Those Talks. _

"Someplace private," his father said softly. "At home."

Kankuro put on a cheeky grin. "Does this mean you're done with work, then? I ought to kiss you every day."

Yondaime gave him a look and sighed, turning to survey his desk as though he'd never seen it before. "Yes, I would say this definitely means I am done with work."

That was interesting. His father's response to his joking meant that he wasn't in trouble, either. Kankuro wondered what his father did have to say if it wasn't, 'What is wrong with you?' or 'You are so grounded.' Not that his father should be grounding a fourteen-year-old adult genin with responsibilities to the village. But still. His father had the power to do so. As Kazekage, his father could suspend him from duty.

Kankuro ventured, "Does this mean, ah, that you don't think I just screwed up my life forever? 'Cause you're not mad at me."

Yondaime turned and looked at him with a horrified expression. "Of course not. Of course you haven't ruined your life. Not in any way, and certainly not 'forever'. We just need to talk. We need to talk about you. And…" He looked at his hands, spreading his fingers and studying them with a kind of detached dismay. "And me, it seems. I must also talk about myself."

Kankuro knew his father loathed personal discussions. That was why it had taken getting drunk to get anything out of his father at all. He winced. "Yeah…May I make a suggestion?"

"A suggestion?" His father raised an eyebrow.

Kankuro chewed his lip. "You might want to have a glass of that plum wine first, before we start this discussion."

His father stared at him, mouth falling open. Then his father let out a laugh. "You certainly may not suggest that I get drunk in order to administer proper discipline and advice on this subject!" But he seemed more amused than anything else. He walked towards the door, shaking his head.

At Kankuro's immobility, he looked over his shoulder and gave his son a look. "Are you coming, or not?"

Kankuro closed his mouth and nodded, walking to his father's side. He was trying to get over the sound of his father's surprised laugh. For a moment, his father had become the most beautiful person on earth. _If this is what my dad used to be like, then no wonder Mom fell in love with him. That was like, the sexiest laugh ever._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

His father leaned against the front of the desk and crossed his arms, casually foregoing the right to sit down behind the desk in his study as he would his office. So he didn't feel like passing judgment. He was going to try to have a talk as father and son, not Kazekage and subject.

Kankuro tried to breathe.

"You've kissed before," Yondaime said.

Kankuro nodded slowly. "Yeah…"

"So, let's start with that," Yondaime said. "Whom? And why? Was it a girlfriend you didn't tell me about because you were afraid I would embarrass you?"

Kankuro's brow furrowed. His father didn't sound angry or disappointed, just resignedly curious. "Not exactly…it was more like…we both wanted to know what it was like. You know, to kiss somebody. And then, we tried it. And then we both decided we weren't going to date each other after all."

Yondaime blinked. "That bad?"

"No," Kankuro protested, flushing. His shoulders slumped when he thought about it for a moment. "It just wasn't good, either. It was kind of like…nothing."

"Ah," Yondaime said, nodding.

"'Ah'?" Kankuro raised his eyebrow at the knowing sound. "Wanna tell me something I don't know about it?"

"Well, you probably didn't like it when you kissed your teammate because she is either not the kind of girl you see yourself being attracted to, or it is all girls you aren't attracted to. In which case, you would be attracted to boys. Which is the more likely scenario to me, considering that you kissed me, and I happen to be a man. Or, more generally, someone of the male persuasion."

Kankuro sighed in exasperation and rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I'm not gay just because I kissed you. I kissed you because…well…you're you."

Yondaime looked mystified. "I'm me?"

"You're my dad," Kankuro said, shooting him a look.

His father only looked more confused. "You kissed me because I'm your father? That would be a turn-off for most people."

"I know that," Kankuro said dryly. "But for me it's a turn-on."

"Oh." Yondaime looked worried and guilty.

"Before you start thinking how you managed to produce something like me, don't," Kankuro said. "You didn't do anything wrong to make this happen. The more I think about it, the more I realize this was a long time coming. I mean, I always idolized you and wanted to protect you against people's bad opinions. When I reached like eight or nine years old, I started noticing how much better you look than other people's parents. I mean, god, you're hot. You really are. You're slim, and you're graceful, and you're everything I wish I could be but I'm not." Kankuro gestured at himself with both hands.

"You're only fourteen," Yondaime protested. "You're still developing. You don't know you won't be like me, yet. And I see you as already being those things. You're graceful. You're very graceful. Puppet masters are graceful, and you fit that description to a 'T'."

Kankuro watched in bemusement as his father – probably unconsciously – inched along the front of the desk towards the door.

Then he used the body flicker technique to appear between the desk and the door. He smiled sweetly, unable to keep from teasing. "Dad…Where are you going?"

Yondaime flinched. "Nowhere."

Kankuro wanted to laugh. "You can't leave until we've finished our discussion."

"Well, it's finished," his father said nervously. "I can declare it finished because I'm the father, and –"  
Kankuro slinked towards him, making sure to saunter nice and slow. "I think I like it when you say, 'I'm the father'." He raised an eyebrow, still smiling, and stared his father down. If his father didn't want to believe or understand how he felt, then he was just going to rub it in his father's face until acceptance was achieved.

Yondaime's jaw dropped.

Kankuro leaned forward and touched the underside of his father's chin with an index finger, gently closing his father's mouth. "I think I want you to say that a whole bunch more." He leaned forward the rest of the distance and gently kissed his father's lips. His lower regions were thrilled. Kankuro felt a hot stirring in response to the intimate contact.

"What are you doing?" Yondaime hissed, backing away from him. "We can't do this. We're not allowed – it's not allowed –"

Kankuro simply followed him.

"You have to listen to me right now and stop!" Yondaime ordered, realizing what Kankuro was doing and standing his ground. "I am not going to allow you to chase me all over the place and try to back me into a corner and do whatever else your fantasies dictate that you should do to me."

Kankuro halted, and tilted his head, studying his father thoughtfully. "What's gonna happen to me if I don't stop?"

His father looked stricken.

"How're you gonna punish me?" Kankuro asked.

"Punish you?" his father whispered, paling.

"Yeah, and it better be pretty good, 'cause I'm determined," Kankuro said.

Despite his father's looming presence in the Council chambers, at home he was a soft parent. It was another thing that came of being a single parent. With no one to back him up and help him make decisions, his father most often ended up simply talking to them about their transgressions and forgiving them. Kankuro wasn't about to say he didn't prefer it that way, but he knew that a lot of people in the village would think his father was crazy for not keeping a tighter grip on his children.

The beatings and cursing that his father apparently endured wasn't normal, either, but corporal punishment was, especially spanking. His father had never gone in for spanking, had never struck out at them unless it was in the context of a sparring match, and even then, his father didn't try very hard. As soon as he and Temari had gone from simple exercises to actual sparring with chakra, his father had bowed out. Kankuro hadn't read very much into that, thinking their father was simply busy, but now…

He supposed it made sense. Especially if his father had been abused in training situations. One of his friends' fathers had gone too hard once, but that had been an accident, and his friend had gotten an apology. Kankuro could barely wrap his mind around purposeful abuse, day after day. _But it sure sounded like it was that way when he talked about it last night. I mean, he was crying_.

Kankuro realized belatedly he'd pushed his father pretty hard in this discussion. _The topic of punishment must be really painful for him. And here I went and challenged him to think of a punishment to stop me._

His father was still silent, looking at him with mingled apprehension and sadness.

Kankuro found himself looking at the floor. "I'm sorry, Dad. I went too far. Especially since you told me that stuff last night, I shouldn't have said all that 'punish me' stuff."

His father startled him by swiftly crossing the space between them and hugging him tightly. "Kankuro…you shouldn't be sorry. An argument is an argument. It happens to the best of us, never mind the worst."

Kankuro hugged his father in return, wondering where his father placed himself along that spectrum. _Probably more towards 'worst', given ho he seems to be feeling. _"Dad…I still shouldn't have. I should have respected you when you said 'no'; I'm not trying to force myself on you or anything." Although, before now, Kankuro could never have considered he had the power to force himself on his father.

"Force yourse –" His father started and stopped, looking startled. "I never imagined that you would do that, my son."

Kankuro was relieved. "That's good. That's really good. Because I wouldn't do a thing like that."

"I know that," his father said earnestly. "You are a good son. You have always been good to me, trying to obey me whenever possible." He smiled. "Even if sometimes childhood antics or personal preferences got in the way. But that happens between every child and every parent. There comes a point when you must be yourself, and I must allow you to be so."

His father's expression grew somber. "That is precisely my point of concern with these professed feelings of yours. I fear that I have brought them on you myself through some form of unwitting manipulation; and in that case, it is my duty to try to undo that manipulation the best that I can."

"And if it isn't?" Kankuro asked. "If it's just the way I feel, no matter what, and you had nothing to do with it?"

His father looked disconcerted. "Well…we'll consider that possibility when we come to it." He led Kankuro towards the dark leather sofa across the room from the desk. "First, we must sit down and discuss exactly what your feelings are, and what expectations you have formed from them."

Kankuro noticed his father's objective to talk about himself as well wasn't happening. _That's predictable. He's probably so distracted with me that he doesn't even remember promising to talk about himself._ "Okay, Dad."

They sat down on the sofa together, side by side.

His father rested a gentle hand on his back. "Now, please tell me how these feelings originated."

"I don't know," Kankuro said honestly. "I think they've been growing for a while now. I only noticed them last night, but that's because we were together for longer than we've been alone in years. When I graduated from the Academy, you practically stopped spending time with me."

His father was stricken. "I'm sorry." He hugged Kankuro, and then started rubbing his son's back. "I was trying to give you space. By the time I was twelve, I no longer wanted my father in my life."

_That's because he beat you,_ Kankuro wanted to say. _Who would want an asshole like that in their life?_ "Well, I feel different," he said simply. "I want you here."

"I see that now," Yondaime said gently. He paused. "If I spend more time with you, do you think these feelings will go away?"

"I don't know." Kankuro frowned, considering the question. "I don't think so. I mean…I feel the way I feel more when I'm around you than when I'm not." He gave his father a look. "And that is not permission to exile me or something. I'm not going. You might get rid of me because of the Chunin Exam for a while, but I'm not going anywhere. This is my village, too, and I'm a shinobi of the Sand, and this is my job. My livelihood. I'm as linked to the village as you are. So don't get any funny ideas."

"I would never," his father said, plainly horrified, "never exile you from this village. I would not even consider exiling you from this house. I love you. Even if our differences turn out to be irreconcilable, I am sure we will think of some way to compromise a proper code of behavior between us."

Kankuro nodded, satisfied. That was another list of fears eliminated. "Okay then. I agree. We're not barbarians. And we love each other. We said that often enough last night. I love you, and you love me. Even if we can't agree right now on how we love each other."

"Right." His father took a deep breath. "So we're both willing to be reasonable here."

"Of course I am," Kankuro said, knowing the 'we both' was an implied 'you'.

Yondaime nodded. "I am not saying that you should not care about me. I am saying I do not want you to be emotionally enslaved. You should not try to care for me, the way that a wife or a spouse would. That is too great a burden for any fourteen-year-old to bear, even one as mature as you. You need your freedom to grow and explore the world around you. You are a growing adult. You don't need to be confined to home as some grotesque parody of a spouse who exists to soothe my ego and give me a shoulder to cry on. That is absurd."

Kankuro realized at that explanation that they really did need to talk. "I wasn't suggesting that." He took his father's hand and squeezed it. "Not at all. What I was suggesting was…what I think about is…" He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Doing everything together that a father and son should do…except you tell me about your feelings and allow me to help you instead of shutting yourself away in the office and working until three in the morning. Or more. Telling me your problems instead of telling a wine bottle and expecting them to go away like that. You don't want to confide in your bodyguards. You've already said that. You don't have anyone else. You've got me, or nobody, and I think choosing 'nobody' is unacceptable."

"Unacceptable, ne?" Yondaime gave his son a wry smile.

"Yes," Kankuro said firmly.

Yondaime sighed. "Telling you my problems and allowing you to aid in solving them is not inherently abusive…as long as I get to do the same for you."

Kankuro smiled and nodded. "Alright, then. I'll continue to bring my problems to you, just like I would normally. I'm not going to treat you like an emotional cripple who can't help me if I need the help."

His father visibly relaxed, letting out a long, slow breath. "I'm relieved," he said softly.

Kankuro hugged him. "Yeah, Dad. You're still my Dad. That's what I love about you. All this time, and you've never changed."

His father looked startled, but not afraid. "What do you mean? I have changed."

Kankuro shook his head, smiling. "Not the small things. Not the important things. You still try to treat us right, even though you're trying to give us more space now, or whatever. And you haven't stopped doing the things you used to do – celebrating our birthdays, telling us we're wanted, and needed…Those things never changed. And as for the small things…" He allowed his smile to grow mischievous. "I remembered while we were cuddling in bed last night how you used to smell, when you'd comfort me after nightmares. And you smelled the same."

His father flushed.

"The same shampoo, the same soap, and same cologne," Kankuro said matter-of-factly. He loved the fact that his father's flush grew at those observations.

"Ah…well…I like those smells," his father said weakly. "I'm not going to change just because my cologne is going out of style. And those products always worked for me, so I don't see the need to experiment." He looked at his son searchingly. "What does this have to do with anything about…?"

"Nothing," Kankuro said cheerfully. "Except it's something about you that I like. That you don't change. I always know what to expect from you, and that's a good thing. I wouldn't be half as comfortable dating anybody else."

"But you must," Yondaime said.

"I know," Kankuro said. "You say that. But you don't really know what you're talking about because you don't know the way I feel."

His father smiled at that. "Ah. The family stubbornness. 'I'm right, and you're wrong, and that's that'. Is that it?"

Kankuro nodded, grinning. "Mm-hmm."

"Well, are you going to give me a chance to plead my case, or do you think you already know and don't want to hear it?" his father asked.

"No, you can speak," Kankuro said.

"How kind of you." His father made a wry face and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I would like to ask you to consider this: The relationship you have implied by kissing me and declaring your love for me has a name. It is called incest. Incest is not and will never be morally sanctioned by the government, or our culture. Incest is considered morally wrong."

Kankuro shifted on the sofa. He did think about it. "Yeah, but other than reasons of 'Ew, gross,' no one can ever give me any reason why it isn't okay."

"Genetic ramifications?" Yondaime suggested.

Kankuro laughed. "Yeah, we're gonna have deformed babies. I would like to see that happen."

His father looked dismayed for a moment, then frowned at him.

"Sorry," Kankuro said. "It's true, though. We're both guys, so that's one reason down. That leaves 'Ew, gross'. I don't think you're gross. You're handsome."

"So that makes everything okay," Yondaime said wryly. "Because I'm handsome."

"Well, are you grossed out by me?" Kankuro asked.

"Of course not," his father protested. "You're my son."

Kankuro shrugged. "Well, there you have it. We're out of reasons."

"It's unhealthy," Yondaime said immediately.

"Why?" Kankuro returned.

"Because!"

"Because why?" Kankuro insisted.

His father took a deep breath and sighed. "Because you will be socially isolated by doing this thing."

"I'm already socially isolated," Kankuro said.

"Well, you can't get any better if you don't avoid obvious social taboos," His father said.

"Too late," Kankuro retorted. "I'm Gaara's brother."

Yondaime winced.

Kankuro let up on him. "I'm sorry. But it's true. You know that. My chances of my social stigma 'getting better' are slim. I'm already doomed to be an outcast. Why can't I be a happy outcast? I'd be happy if you accept me the way I am and accept my feelings for you aren't going to change."

"I accept you," his father said automatically. "I just…" He hesitated. "…don't agree with you."

"I get that," Kankuro said. "But why?"

"Maybe I'm not attracted to teenage boys," Yondaime said wryly.

Kankuro grimaced. "That could be a problem."

"You think?" His father raised an eyebrow.

"So…" Kankuro looked down at his feet. Then he raised his head. "But the emotional stuff is already settled. You agreed to rely on me more from now on."

"Yes." His father nodded.

"So I guess that's all we really have to talk about," Kankuro said.

His father looked confused.

"That's what I really wanted," Kankuro said. "More than anything."

"Then why did you kiss me?" his father asked.

"Because you were going on about how you weren't going to 'use' me," Kankuro said softly. "And that meant you were pushing me away."

"Oh, Kankuro." His father hugged him. "I'm not pushing you away."

"Good." Kankuro hugged his father in return. "Now that I know that, I don't care about the rest. You can reject me as a sex partner if you want. It's your choice."

His father looked horrified and amused at the same time. "Well…thank you," he said finally.

Kankuro grinned. "No problem, Dad." He hopped up. "Glad I could help." He held out his hand. "Now, dinner?"

His father snorted and let Kankuro help him up from the sofa. "This is just another day?"

"Pretty much." Kankuro maintained his grin. He didn't let go of his father's hand until they reached the door of the study. He sighed and let his father's fingers slip through his own, even though he didn't really want to. "Time to go act normal, even if I'm really a perverted freak," he said lightly.

"You're not a perverted freak," his father objected immediately.

"Then what am I?" Kankuro asked. _Yeah, answer that one. Somebody._

"You're…" Yondaime hesitated, then reached out and squeezed Kankuro's shoulder. "You're my son."

Kankuro felt inexplicably reassured by that simple answer.

On the way to the dining room, he realized it was because that answer reaffirmed something he had feared was in question: his father's acceptance.

No matter what he'd done, what he hadn't done today was mess up their relationship.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **I have fixed them now, but I am sorry for the weird-ass typos in the original version.

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Everyone settled around the supper table and began eating. Temari and Gaara didn't comment on their lateness; probably chalking it up to Kankuro having to work extra hard to get their father out of the office.

For a few minutes, Kankuro glanced at their father, and he caught their father glancing at him when his father didn't think he was looking.

"How was your day?" Kankuro asked innocently.

"Fine, fine," Yondaime said, nodding. He lowered his gaze to his fish, picking it apart into white flakes with his chopsticks. Then he raised his head and smiled at Temari. "So, how was your mission? I heard it was a little bit difficult."

"No, just time-consuming," Temari said. "Baki wouldn't help because he said that would defeat the purpose of a training mission. So he just stood there and supervised! His wind release is a lot stronger than mine. He could've done the whole street in half the time."

"Less than half," Yondaime said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Baki is one of our most seasoned jonin. I briefly captained a team with him on it in the past. His performance is what led me to consider him for the post he now occupies."

"You were the captain on Baki's team?" Kankuro asked, interested. "When?" He absently ate a bite of rice.

"Oh, a long time ago," Yondaime said vaguely. "Back when he was a boy. He wasn't much older than you, Kankuro, when he left to captain his own team."

"We might be getting our own teams soon," Temari said, brightening. "If we pass the Chunin Exam."

"Oh, joy," Kankuro said, rolling his eyes. "Little brats to teach. Just what I want to do with the rest of my life." Teaching was not in his plans. Becoming a great puppet master, yes. Having to deal with kids and making command decisions that could end somebody's life all the time? No. For the same reason, he knew he would make a miserable Kazekage, and he wasn't even going to try. He'd leave that duty up to someone else.

Temari scowled at him. "Teaching is an important duty, and if we don't do it, who is?"

"I dunno." Kankuro ate a bite of his fish. "People who want to? That would be a good idea. It'd suck to get a sensei who didn't even wanna be a sensei."

"I do not think either of you are qualified to teach a student," Gaara said.

Kankuro and Temari both glared at him.

"What do you know?" Temari said after a moment. "It's not like you'll agree to teach anyone."

Gaara looked at her incredulous. "What…would I teach?"

"Oh, you know lots of things," Kankuro said.

Gaara narrowed his eyes at his older brother. "Do not mock me."

"I wasn't –" Kankuro raised his hands. "You know what? Forget it. Fine. I was 'mocking' you. I'm sorry." Now he was mocking Gaara, a little bit, for being so hostile all the time. But he couldn't help it. His brother's touchiness got on his nerves.

Gaara lowered his head and absorbed himself in the silent consumption of his meal. He avoided all the peppers and green beans that came with the meal, picking around them.

"Eat your vegetables," Yondaime said mildly.

"Hn," Gaara said.

"You can't get by on fish and rice alone."

Gaara glanced up at their father. "Don't tell me what to do."

Kankuro opened his mouth, and then shut it again. _No. I will not get involved._ He resolved to eat his fish and stay out of it. Things never improved when he argued anyway.

Temari sat back in her chair. "Well, I can't wait until I get my first team," she said, changing the subject. "I wanna be a great sensei. Someone my kids can really look up to. So that means kicking lots of ass, so those little snot-nosed boys don't make fun of me for being a girl. I see how kids are. I'll have to be super cool and intimidate them a lot until they fall in line."

Yondaime snorted and stifled a chuckle by biting his lip. "You are going to make me a very proud father," he said, with an admirably straight face. "My daughter, the teacher."

"Damn straight." Temari folded her arms over her chest.

After that, the conversation flowed gently through Temari's detailed account of their village cleaning mission, Gaara's half-hearted complaints that the village would look exactly the same in a day or two thanks to the next sand storm that would inevitably roll around, and Kankuro for the most part just stayed silent and shot his father meaningful smiles.

Yondaime was a strong man not to blush or act as though anything was out of the ordinary.

**xXx**

After Temari and Gaara went to bed, and Kankuro made sure by scanning their chakra levels that they were asleep, he met his father in the living room for another chat.

His father was sitting in the oversized armchair, looking basically collected. The bottle of plum wine and a full glass sat next to him on the end table.

Kankuro raised his eyebrows. "I'm impressed. I wasn't sure if you were gonna show." He sat down on the sofa, the kotatsu table situated between them.

"You…You asked me to confide, so…here I am." His father awkwardly cradled his glass of plum wine in both hands, looking down into the dark, rich liquid. "What would you like me to confide?"

"Whatever's bothering you," Kankuro said immediately.

His father gave him a sad smile. "That would be too many things."

"Like what?" Kankuro asked. "Pick one."

"Something that bothers me is…what you saw of me last night," Yondaime said.

"Why?" Kankuro asked. _I thought we discussed this already._

"Because it gives you entirely the wrong impression of me," Yondaime said.

"Yeah? Like what?" Kankuro looked at his father contemplatively, chewing his lip.

"You probably think that I am suicidal," his father said bluntly.

"That? No." Kankuro shook his head.

His father looked startled. Then he smiled. "Why not?"

"Because you said that you wouldn't, even though you said that you wanted to," Kankuro said. "Because you understand that Mom would be mad at you. She would never want you to commit suicide, because of her or for any other reason. But especially not because of her."

Yondaime looked saddened, but he still smiled, nodding slowly. "Yes…you're right." He took a small sip of plum wine. "Of course. I could not betray her like that. Or you. Or Temari. Or Gaara. Though I suspect that he thinks that he wouldn't care nearly as much as he really would if something were to happen to me. Whether he knows it or not, he does want a relationship with me. He just doesn't know it's possible to feel something other than pain or hatred. Much of that is my fault; I should have –"

Kankuro shook his head. "No, stop it. You're slipping into self-hatred again."

His father paused, grimacing. "I'm sorry." Then he looked horrified. "All I am doing by discussing my problems and my feelings is making you feel hurt and responsible for me."

"We're a family," Kankuro said. "Aren't we all responsible for each other? If Gaara actually asked me for help, I'd help him no matter what. Isn't that the same thing I'm doing for you right now? Age is irrelevant."

"Age is very relevant," Yondaime protested. "The older one is, the more one ought to know, the more experienced one ought to be, and the more self-sufficient."

"Yeah, and what about grandparents?" Kankuro asked. "Don't they move in with their kids and ask for help? Age is not always correlated with independence."

"Chiyo-sama seems to feel it is," Yondaime muttered.

Chiyo was actually Kankuro's great aunt. Kankuro shifted, leaning forward. "See? Doesn't that piss you off? You've asked her and Ebizo to move in with us countless times, and she says no because she'd rather act independent. Her health is terrible. You've said so yourself. If she were a little less prideful and a little less enmeshed in this culture of independence, then she would just give it up and come back to us. You know Ebizo-jii is only out there with her to keep her company. If she surrendered, he could too. And his health isn't so great, either. Didn't you say he has bad knees?"

His father sighed. "Yes, he does." He bowed his head and massaged the bridge of his nose. "We are getting pretty far afield."

"No, I don't think so," Kankuro said. "You're just saying that because this isn't going the way you want it to go. My point is: I'm the eldest son. You'd be living with me at some point anyway. And then I'd be taking care of you, like I want to take care of you now. What's wrong with getting a head start?"

Eldest sons in their culture always ended up staying close to their parents' side and taking care of them. That was the norm. Kankuro didn't see what was so unusual about his request to start early.

Yondaime squirmed. "But you – you want more than that. Kankuro, I'm no fool; you're looking for a way around my decision so that you can…" He looked at Kankuro with discomfort, trailing off.

Kankuro grinned. "So that I can what? Seduce you?"

Yondaime flushed.

Kankuro rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Now, would I do a thing like that? You said no, remember? You even told me you don't like teenage boys."

"But you're hoping I like grown men," Yondaime retorted.

"Well, you said it yourself, I'm still developing," Kankuro said innocently. "Why don't you wait and see who I grow into? Maybe you'll be attracted to him."

"You are as pushy as the day I tried to say no to your fourth cat," his father said, tossing his hands in the air with exasperation and flopping back in his seat with a chuckle. "You stood there, holding Chiko around the middle, saying, 'Please please please' until I gave in."

Kankuro grinned again. "Yeah…Chiko was the best cat."

His father's expression softened. "Chiko was the best cat. She turned out to be my very favorite. She'd accompany me across the Complex to my office, and no one could keep her out. Not even the jonin guards could figure out how she was doing it. In spite of their best efforts, there she would be, rubbing against my leg while I did paperwork, as contented as you please."

Kankuro still missed Chiko. She'd died of old age two years ago, shortly after graduation. She'd already been seven years old when he fell in love with her at the animal shelter. He spent a few moments thinking about that funny bobtail cat, with her orange and black patches and white body. She'd had a big orange spot right over the left side of her forehead, and a black patch over that ear. And she'd had the most distinctive meow. It was more like a 'rawr' instead of a classic 'nyan' sound.

Then he shook himself, smiling at his father fondly. "See? I was right, and you were wrong."

"Aha," Yondaime said. "I'm sorry I brought the cat up." But he was smiling.

Kankuro said softly, "You never know what you're going to like until you try it. I'll grow on you. Maybe you'll even fall in love with me, too."

His father snorted, and then burst out laughing. "You are hopeless. Please, listen to yourself for a moment. I am not going to fall in love with you, simply because you are endearing, stubborn, and my eldest son, whom I already love very much. Our relationship is going to stay at the same normal, platonic level, no matter what you do to seduce me."

"Oh." Kankuro's eyebrows rose, and he grinned mischievously. "Is that a challenge?"

His father paled slightly, but stood his ground. "No."

"It is," Kankuro teased.

"No," Yondaime insisted.

"I accept," Kankuro said.

His father smacked his forehead and groaned. "If you don't cease and desist now, I am going to have to think up ways of keeping you from this course of action."

"Like what?" Kankuro asked.

Yondaime stroked his chin. Then he gave Kankuro a slight smile Kankuro didn't like at all. "You like psychology, don't you? You respect psychology's insights into the world around us."

"Yeah…" Kankuro nodded slowly.

"So I suggest we both research as much psychology as we can to back up our respective points," his father said. "You try to prove, impartially, that your course of action is harmless. I shall endeavor to prove that your ideas are dangerous and that we cannot under any circumstances cross socially mandated lines of behavior."

"Fine," Kankuro said.

"Alright?" his father raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Kankuro rose from the couch. "You're on."

"Good," Yondaime said. "I suggest we call a cease-fire until such time as we are both prepared to present our research."

"Sounds like a good idea," Kankuro said. "I accept." He stuck out his hand.

His father rose from his armchair and shook Kankuro's hand.

"Now, you're going to talk about yourself, because you still evaded my most basic question from earlier," Kankuro said.

"Earlier?" His father looked confused. "When?"

"At the dinner table," Kankuro said. "I asked how your day was, and you allowed the subject to fall through the cracks on purpose. You changed the subject to Temari."

Yondaime flushed.

"You thought I wouldn't notice?" Kankuro raised an eyebrow. "I am always using misdirection. I am a puppet master."

His father bowed his head. "It went miserably." His voice came out a strained whisper.

Kankuro was startled. "Huh? What?"

"It went miserably," Yondaime said. "The Council meeting."

Kankuro didn't reply. He let his actions speak for him, squeezing his father's hand.

"I suggested alternate means of raising funds, so that we did not have to go to war," his father whispered. "They laughed at me. I didn't show them I was disturbed, or upset by their actions. But they hurt me. They said no Kage ever grew great, nor any nation, by being peaceful. We must strike now, before we weaken further, they said. Because of my policies – because of my vow of peace – they said Wind has been steadily declining as a nation. We're hardly any better than Kusagakure, they said. All talk and no fight." Kusa was known for its diplomacy.

Kankuro pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes, angered by the Council's dismissal of his father. "They're just a bunch of old war hawks," he said finally. "They didn't have to fight in the last war. They've forgotten what it's like. Or they liked it in the first place. Sadists. They just want an excuse to relive the glory days through the younger generation; my generation. Your generation. They don't care if we get hurt. Every loss will be a 'glorious' loss. Every death will be an 'honorable' death. It's all a bunch of bullshit. Ego-stroking bullshit."

Yondaime's head snapped up. He looked at Kankuro with a startled expression. "That statement was so like Karura of you. She believed the same thing; that the Council is just a group of old men spoiling for a fight because they never got a sufficient taste of war in their own day. The current council is composed of the generation that war skipped over. They probably don't know what it's like; they were too young for the Second Shinobi World War, too old for the Third."

"Wow…" Kankuro nodded slowly. "That explains a lot." He hadn't known the precise age range of the council members.

His father smiled at him and shifted; his mood seemed lighter. "Thank you, Kankuro. I needed to be reminded of that fact. I can use that against them in the next argument – I mean, meeting."

Kankuro cracked up, amused by the slip.

"Well, they are," his father protested. "Arguments, I mean. Every council meeting is simply a formal argument between two factions that can't agree: me, and them."

"That sounds lonely," Kankuro murmured.

Yondaime reclined, crossed one leg over the other, and sighed. "I swear they decide everything without me." He picked up his glass and took a sip of plum wine.

"They probably do," Kankuro said.

His father made a face. "Thanks for that. How comforting to think that the village is actually being run by a group of old blowhards who can't get their heads around what a real war is like, as opposed to the man elected to be the village leader, who's had experience in the last war this nation has seen, and in fact, distinguished himself in that war sufficiently to be declared Sandaime's successor."

Kankuro shrugged. "I never said you couldn't take control back."

His father drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair, looking away thoughtfully. "How?"

"I dunno," Kankuro said. "Somehow." He looked at his father with a combination of faith and concern. Less agonized, his features relaxing in contemplation, his father was handsome. Even, maybe, beautiful. His father's delicate bone structure extended to his features: high cheekbones, a slim jawline, narrow chin. An unusually delicate nose. Really, if his father had long hair, he would be androgynous.

Yondaime finally noticed Kankuro studying him and flushed. He took another sip of plum wine. "Yes? Is there something you would like to state?"

Kankuro found himself smiling. His father was even more attractive flushed; the pink in high contrast with his father's pale skin. "I really wish I knew enough to paint you," he said softly.

His father's eyes widened. He didn't look as though he knew what to say.

"You're beautiful," Kankuro explained, as if that was in question. From the look in his father's eyes, maybe it was.

For a few moments, his father remained silent. Then his expression changed, relaxing into a rueful smile. "Ah…you're tired. And I'm tired, too. We should probably go to bed."

Kankuro was disappointed with his father's response. _He doesn't believe me_. He scanned his father again. _Man…with a body like that? He must have really low self-esteem not to see it. He's totally hot._ "Maybe…" He drew out the word. Then he stood up. "Would you like me to sleep with you? You know, to keep you company?"

His father's expression turned regretful. "No. I don't think that will be necessary."

_But you want me to,_ Kankuro thought.

Yondaime rose from his chair, stared at the bottle of plum wine on the end table, and then glanced at Kankuro. "I can manage. I've spent twelve years sleeping alone. I think I've got the hang of it by now."

Kankuro crossed the space between them and gently squeezed his father's arm. "People don't get the hang of being lonely, Dad."

Yondaime looked as though he wanted to cry. "I hope you never have to find out…they do." He gently withdrew his arm from Kankuro's touch. Then he picked up the bottle of plum wine and his glass. "Good night, son." He gestured with the bottle. "I'm going to return these things to the kitchen and then go to bed myself. You should go on ahead. There's no sense in waiting for me."

Kankuro wanted to call him back, but instead he watched his father walk across the living room and disappear down the hall to the kitchen. Kankuro let out a sigh and let his shoulders slump. _Dad…what am I going to do with you? I'm trying to help._

He walked slowly to the stairs, in the opposite direction from the way his father went. He paused there, his hand on the banister. _I'm just trying to help._

By the time he walked to the top of the stairs, Kankuro had made up his mind. _And I'm going to help, no matter what._

He went to his room, nodding to himself. No way was he going to let his father get the upper hand. Nobody could be right all the time. And this was one of those cases where his father was just wrong.

_There's no reason to cling to loneliness,_ Kankuro thought sleepily, climbing underneath the covers and getting comfortable in his bed. _It's just not right._

He fell asleep, entertaining thoughts of how he was going to reason with his father by any means necessary.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Five days later, when it was the weekend, Kankuro and his father convened again, after having plenty of time to research their respective arguments. The weekend didn't mean anything special for a shinobi; Kankuro had long since stopped being able to say 'Yay, Friday!' But he suspected it was the spirit of the thing. He could still remember being glad to come home from classes on Friday afternoon, knowing he didn't have to get up early on Saturday. And his father had long had a tradition of cutting his days at the office short on weekends in deference to his status as a single father. So his father, too, was expecting that this discussion might run long into the night, if they deadlocked each other.

After dinner and everyone else was in bed, be it the servant staff or Kankuro's siblings, Kankuro met his father in the living room. He'd already brushed his teeth, washed off his face paint, and gotten on his pajamas, a loose black t-shirt and pale blue fleece cotton pants with a gray cat pattern. The cat pattern pajamas had been a joke gift from Temari last year, but he'd gone ahead and attacked them with enthusiasm, wearing them as often as possible. That'd show her.

His father was already there, dressed in a subdued black and gray yukata, plum wine poured and gleaming in the lamp light a rich burgundy. A book rested on the end table beside the bottle and glass. _Research,_ Kankuro thought.

He'd memorized what he needed to know; he had an excellent memory, and he didn't think this was going to be the sort of formal debate where they had to quote exact passages and name names.

"Welcome," his father said wryly.

Kankuro bowed, with theatrical flair. "It's the Great Psych-Off."

Yondaime chuckled and bowed in return. "It is, indeed. Although I suspect neither of us will be joking about it as soon as we get started."

"Probably not," Kankuro admitted. "This seems like it's going to be painful."

His father nodded. "After all, neither of us are willing to pull our punches."

"It's like a sparring match," Kankuro said. "No need to feel guilty. We'll have this debate, and then it will be over."

"That's very mature of you," his father said.

Kankuro grinned. "Thank you." He gestured. "Now, as defender, I will allow you to go first. Tell me all about why what I want is such a big, bad thing." He sat down on the sofa, across from his father's armchair.

Yondaime sat down as well, folding his hands in his lap instead of touching his plum wine. "My first point will not be about what you want, but rather about how I have failed to raise you properly."

"Oh, boy," Kankuro groaned. "Okay." He should have suspected as much. _I am like the only guy who has to defend his father from himself. _

"Please take this seriously," his father said. "I have uncovered some sobering research."

Kankuro nodded and tried to keep an open mind. Even though he knew his father was wrong. "I'm sure you think it's bad."

His father gave him a look. "During teenage years, you are supposed to pull away from me and become your own person. All my research says so. In fact, there is supposed to be an equal and opposite reaction; the closer you felt to me, the more you should have wanted to pull away and identify yourself as an individual. The fact that you haven't means that I have somehow given you the message that pulling away and becoming independent is unacceptable. I've unwittingly trained you to sublimate your natural desires and appease my own. Something a father should never do."

"Am I allowed to talk back?" Kankuro asked.

His father gestured. "Please do. We could not have a discussion if we were not willing to talk to each other about the points we each bring up."

Kankuro nodded. "Alright, then." He thought about what he wanted to say; what would most effectively refute his father's statements.

His father waited.

"I am my own person," Kankuro said. "We wouldn't be having this discussion if I weren't. What you want me to do is give up and say that how I feel isn't right, and how you feel is right. You're trying to smother me, and I'm resisting."

Yondaime looked startled and discomfited. "Smother?"

"Well, you keep discounting my point of view," Kankuro said.

His father's gaze dropped, and then he rallied and looked Kankuro in the eye. "I am not discounting, I am trying to inform you."

Kankuro raised an eyebrow. "Either way, I'm not listening. I'd say that makes me a healthy teenager. Point for me, Dad."

His father opened his mouth, and then shut it again. Then he said, "Now, wait a minute. Simply because you argue with me about this one thing does not mean that you do not have a much larger base of obedience to me than is healthy. Obedience is a value of our culture, but at the same time, it should not be a form of obedience that stifles your attempts to individuate yourself from me. And wanting to take care of me at fourteen years old is a sign that I have enmeshed us and caused you to become co-dependent."

He said earnestly, "For example, making you pick me up at the office was wrong. I should have either refused your help, or acted like a mature adult and sent myself home, without needing you to shepherd me."

"It's just a ritual," Kankuro protested. "Every family has rituals."

"This is an unhealthy ritual," Yondaime retorted. "As are countless other things I make you do because I am too selfish to take care of myself or seek professional help."

"Like what?" Kankuro asked.

"I can't see my unhealthy behaviors, because I am the one doing them," Yondaime said. "The ritual of needing you to make me stop work for the day is simply obvious."

"Then how come I'm sexually attracted to you?" Kankuro asked.

"A codependent relationship between parent and child encourages a romantic bond to form, without the act of sex," Yondaime said.

"So…what?" Kankuro frowned.

"Because I am squeezing you too tightly and not allowing you enough freedom, you seek out a way of expressing your sexuality," Yondaime said.

Kankuro narrowed his eyes. "I'm attracted to you because I don't have a choice? That doesn't make any sense. I think I would notice if I was just settling for you because I didn't think I could get a date, or that you would approve of one. And I don't feel smothered, or like I would go on a date if I had less responsibilities to you."

"But you're not dating," Yondaime pointed out.

"Because I'm not real impressed with anyone," Kankuro said. "I don't meet a lot of people because I'm on missions, not because I'm tied hand and foot to your side. Eventually – like you – I'll have the opportunity to meet someone I'm attracted to. But I don't see the point of waiting through those long years of searching if I'm already in love with you."

"Not wanting to leave me behind to fend for myself is a sign that your thinking has been warped by the dependence I've allowed myself to have on you," Yondaime said despairingly.

"My thinking is not warped," Kankuro said. "And you never ask me for help. About anything. You always plow along by yourself, even when it hurts so bad you can't go to sleep without drinking something to ease your pain. You're lonely, and you're not reaching out to anybody. You're withdrawing. That's like the opposite of this emotional attachment abuse thing you're talking about."

"Even though I don't appear to be relying on you, I am still making you feel responsible for me, and that is the crux of this emotional abuse," Yondaime said. "We're both fooling ourselves, I by saying that I don't ask you for help, and you by saying that you do this out of your own free will."

"I want to help you," Kankuro said. He tapped his chest. "This is me. This feeling comes from me. It's not something you have insidiously implanted in me to keep me dependent on you. All fourteen-year-olds are dependent on their parents, and in our culture, families stay dependent on each other for survival all through their lives. That's what family's for. How do you distinguish between what's healthy attachment and what isn't?"

His father hesitated.

"If I weren't so healthy and independent, I would have already agreed with you just to make you happy," Kankuro said. "Even though I can tell I'm making you uncomfortable, and might damage your approval of me, I'm still pushing. That means I'm doing what your research says a healthy teen ought to do. So I'm developing fine."

His father bowed his head and passed a hand over his eyes.

"I win this one," Kankuro said. "As far as my development goes, it's one point to me."

"There are points, now?" his father murmured.

Kankuro grinned. "Yup. How else are we going to keep track?"

His father sighed. "Whatever you wish. There is one point to you, and none for me." He straightened in his seat. "And I must admit you are a stubborn individual. I would not equate you at all with the textbook example of a child who has been enmeshed with his or her parent."

Kankuro nodded. "Damn straight."

Yondaime looked distinctly unhappy. He flopped back in his chair and reached out for his glass of plum wine. He took a slow sip, brow furrowed in thought.

"What's your next move?" Kankuro asked quietly.

"Genetic Sexual Attraction," his father said, just as quietly. His unhappy expression grew.

"Ah." Kankuro nodded. "I researched that, too."

A heavy silence fell between them.

His father broke it; he straightened and set down his glass of plum wine on the end table by his chair. "I believe the evidence is clear: you perceive me to be attractive due to a complicated confluence of genetic and environmental factors. Human beings are geared to find the faces of their family members appealing. Sociologically, this helps us love our family members and want to support them. Genetic Sexual Attraction is something that helps bind families together. When it stays at low levels."

"When feelings of Genetic Sexual Attraction, or GSA, get bigger, it's supposed to be because of spending a long time apart, and then reuniting," Kankuro said. "The most common scenario is adoption/reunion, with a long gap between when the child was given up, and when they see their biological family again."

"The Westermarck Effect happens when a child is one to six years old," Yondaime said. "The child is subconsciously socialized not to fall in love with the people he or she spends time with during those years."

Kankuro chewed the inside of his cheek. "Yeah…so I'm supposed to not be able to be attracted to you, but I am. And this Genetic Sexual Attraction is beyond the limits of the norm."

His father took a deep breath, and sighed. "One theory is that you feel under-loved, and seek my attention and approval in a new way to fill that void inside of you."

Kankuro winced. "Ouch. That's a better argument than the emotional abuse thing."

Yondaime nodded. "As always, I am strategic in my timing. I placed the weaker argument first. As much as I fear that it is true that I have made you codependent."

Kankuro sighed. "I can't argue that I want to be loved. What kid doesn't? We all want our parents to love us. That's what parents are supposed to do. And I did feel bad that you pulled away from me over the past two years. But that's not why I want to emotionally support you. I told you, the sex part is something I'm not sure of."

"You're not codependent, but you wish to be," his father said wryly. "That sounds great. I'll just take my limited success and throw it out the window because we're too unhealthy to conceive of a solution."

"Dad…" Kankuro frowned at him.

"I am signing us up for family therapy either way," Yondaime said. "No matter what the outcome of this conversation, we are all going to get some much-needed help. We can't continue on this way, not with me feeling self-destructive, and you feeling responsible, Gaara feeling angry, and Temari as though she has to grow up in fast forward in order to win my approval and gain the final freedom to leave this house."

_A trump card. I can't believe he pulled a freaking trump card on me._ Kankuro scowled and crossed his arms. "I'd be a fool to say I don't wanna go. Of course we'll go if you say we have to. Maybe even Gaara."

"You're angry with me," Yondaime stated.

"Well, yeah. I thought you took this seriously. Now I find out it's just a delaying tactic while you set up therapy for us," Kankuro said.

"I haven't set up anything yet," Yondaime said. He hesitated. "I wanted to speak with you all first. I couldn't make a decision like that on my own. We are a family."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Kankuro muttered. Although it did, a little bit.

"Unequal power dynamics are why a sexual relationship between a parent and child could never work," Yondaime said softly. "I just proved my point by placing you in this scenario. I have the power and resources to be unfair, to refuse to listen or stop listening when you think you should have a voice. I am not on an even footing with you."

"No one could be," Kankuro objected. "You're Kazekage. Anyone would just have to trust you. Not just me. It's your responsibility to act fair, because you need somebody to trust you enough to love you. Don't throw my feelings away just because you want to make a point."

"I need to do what is best for you as a father," Yondaime said gently, but he looked unmistakably hurt by Kankuro's criticism. "I am not your lover. I am not your equal, or your friend. I am someone who is supposed to guide your life so that you turn out for the best. A little anger towards me might go a long ways in making sure that you grow up properly. I can't imagine a man who hasn't become angry at his father a few times."

"You want me to be angry at you?" Kankuro ran a hand through his hair, confused. He had a sinking feeling that his father's relationship with his grandfather had a lot to do with how this conversation was going.

"It makes sense to me," Yondaime said.

"And devotion doesn't," Kankuro said.

His father fell silent.

"You're sabotaging," Kankuro said. He decided in an instant. "I'm onto you. And I have the perfect research to pull off the mask on this game."

"Onto me?" Yondaime frowned. "I doubt you have anything to say that could change the outcome of this discussion. To the best of my ability, I have reconstructed the terrible childhood I put you through, and nothing is going to stop me from changing so that you do not have a terrible future."

"If nothing's going to change your mind, then you may as well let me talk for my own satisfaction," Kankuro said.

His father stared at him for a moment. Finally, he said, "I'm listening. I am interested in what you have to say. I did not mean to imply otherwise."

"I have a study done in Masago I'd like to talk about," Kankuro said. Masago was a major village in Wind country, on the other side of the desert.

"Alright," his father said, nodding. "Go ahead."

"The study in Masago was done on adults raising children," Kankuro said. "The adults who had experienced abuse by their parents reported less competence in their parenting skills." He raised an index finger. "However, when the investigators actually monitored the parents with their children, they found that these parents were just as proficient at raising children as the adults who had not been abused." He looked at his father pointedly.

Yondaime cleared his throat.

For a moment, silence fell between them.

"You haven't messed me up," Kankuro said. "You just think you have because your father was abusive." He was taking a big risk, talking about a subject that made his father so uncomfortable, but he wanted to make it clear he wasn't going to let anything slide past him.

"Thank you, Kankuro," Yondaime said, in what sounded suspiciously like his Official Voice.

"Please don't withdraw from me," Kankuro said softly. "We need to talk about this. He really hurt you; and I know it's affecting your perceptions. You're scared of what could happen to me because of him."

"No, I'm not," Yondaime objected. "I'm scared because of what the evidence says! What my intuition says! Everything about this is wrong."

"My feelings are not wrong," Kankuro said. He swallowed a lump in his throat. _This is what it comes down to. I believe in feelings, and he believes in logic, and he's going to smush me. _Gaara didn't get that trait from nowhere, although anyone who pointed out that similarity between Gaara and Yondaime would be pulped.

"You don't think this is wrong because you don't feel abused," Yondaime said. "Your feelings of importance and specialness make you believe that this is a good thing. You don't realize that I have suppressed your sense of self and capitalized on your forming psyche in order to mold someone who is going to love me unconditionally with no thought of themselves. You are willing to sacrifice it all, because I have implanted this adoration of me. I forced you to give up a normal childhood, and all in order to cater to me and my selfish urges."

He picked up the book that had been resting on the end table the entire time. Kankuro had been wondering about this. "This book even suggests that I could have formed a codependent relationship with you as a child, and then destroyed it when I turned distant after your graduation. They say that's the same thing as divorcing you. They say I've emotionally trashed you, and you're trying to get me back by any means necessary, including offering me your body because you can't conceive of any other way to get my attention!"

Kankuro watched his father grow steadily more upset with every word. He rose and crossed the space between them, gently plucking the book from his father's fingers. "Stop reading this stuff and listen to me." He hugged his father, wrapping his arms around his father with continued gentleness. "You are a good Dad. These books aren't about you. Doesn't it count that to get through to you, I'm going against you at every turn? What kind of crushed, suppressed self is that? I'm rebellious, and strong. And I can take care of you; whether you want me to or not."

"I can't," his father choked out.

Kankuro hugged his father a little more tightly and started rubbing his father's back. "Can't what?"

"Can't tell you." His father squeezed his eyes shut. "Can't tell you these things. These books…they confirm what I was afraid of all along. All along…I can't." The final time, those words were a sob. His father's breath caught on them.

That decided Kankuro instantly. He shifted his father over and sat down in the oversized armchair beside his father, squeezing in and holding his father tightly. "What are you talking about? Try to breathe. Just breathe, Dad." He continued rubbing his father's back, the embrace encouraging his father to lean against him.

"Oh, son…" Yondaime's voice wavered, and tears welled up, sticking to his eyelashes. "I tried so hard. To find out that I failed…" The physical affection seemed to undo his father far more effectively than any fact-based argument. His self-control rapidly dwindled, until he was clinging to Kankuro and quietly crying.

"Tried so hard to what?" Kankuro asked gently. _You see? You do need me. Look at yourself. Why did you put yourself under all this pressure? _Kankuro resisted the urge to kiss his father; that would only upset him.

"To avoid being anything like him." His father's voice swelled indignantly on the last word, leaving no doubt as to whom he meant. "He would come home every day, and it would always be something like, 'You'll never believe what happened today'. To my mother first, even though I would be sitting there at the table. And he would snarl it out. Sometimes, it was just about someone whom he believed had been disrespectful to him. And we were supposed to say, 'That's awful', even when we couldn't care less. And he would say, 'Kids these days'. Or whoever it had been. Some disgruntled comment. And he would still be surly, until Mom started stroking his arm and telling him dinner was ready, if he'd like to eat it. And he'd say, 'Hmph', but he would give in. Unless…unless…"

Yondaime trembled. "Unless it was a bad day, and then I had to come in. He would look at me, look right at me, and say, 'Haven't you got anything to say about this?' And when he first started doing it, I didn't know what to say. And he'd snap at me to have some consideration. But after I said – I said once, and I'll never forget it, because I'll regret that day for the rest of my life: 'I'll make you feel better. Sensei at school said that people get out their frustrations through training sometimes. Let's train. I need the practice anyway.'" Yondaime bit back a sob. "I was just trying to help. He was my father."

Kankuro was horrified. He hugged his father tightly, trying to shield his father from what had already happened. "What did he do? Just beat you up or something?"

"He didn't stop until he'd caught me, and gave me a bloody nose, and a black eye, and I –" His father sucked in a deep breath. "He broke my arm. He broke my arm, and I sank to my knees – the pain was so great I couldn't even cry out, even if I'd wanted to, and he said, 'Thanks, son. I feel better'. M-m-much better, he said."

Kankuro thought he was going to be sick. He wanted to throw up. "What did he do then? Did he take you to a med nin?"

"He straightened his belt and left me there," Yondaime said. "I knocked his belt loose grabbing for it when I tried to stop him from breaking – from hurting me. And he just tightened it back up and went back to the house."

Kankuro imagined a typical martial arts uniform and nodded. It made sense. He could imagine his father grabbing for purchase and latching onto the martial arts belt. "So…did he do anything?"

"When…When I could finally walk again, because numbness set in, I got back to the house and sat down at the table, and all Father said was that I hurt my arm," Yondaime said.

"What a jerk," Kankuro whispered, knowing that was hardly sufficient language for something like this. His breath was stolen away.

"Mother asked if something should be done about it, and my father said it could wait until the morning," Yondaime said.

"No way," Kankuro said, shocked. "She didn't seriously go for that, did she?"

His father nodded slowly. "I slept all night with a broken arm. I tried not to move it…" He shuddered, paling. "Then in the morning the med nin reset it at the hospital without any anesthetic. He said I was a fool for not coming earlier."

"How old were you?" Kankuro protested.

His father swallowed. "Seven."

"Good God!" Kankuro exclaimed. "What the hell? How does he get off talking to a little kid that way?"

"You don't get it," Yondaime said. "I was practically an adult. I was in my second year of school. Practically a trained shinobi. I went to the hospital by myself; I didn't need a chaperone to take me there, and –"

"Wait a minute." Kankuro stared at him. "Your father made you go alone? Your mom did? What for?"

Yondaime trembled. "I don't know…"

Kankuro realized he'd unintentionally backed his father into a corner with that line of questioning. "It's okay. It's okay…" He rubbed his father's arm, and suddenly realized he was trying to rub the arm that had been injured. But he didn't know which one it was.

His father looked at him with sad comprehension. "Yes. That's the one."

Kankuro snatched his fingers back for a second, then took in his father's expression and continued rubbing, trying to imagine that this slender arm had ever been broken.

"They did a good job," Yondaime said in a low voice. "I'll give them that. I never sustained permanent marks from my injuries."

Kankuro saw that his face must have been transparent. _Hardly the high moment of a puppet master. _But on the other hand, he wasn't trying to put up masks around his father. He wanted his father to know how he felt. How horrible it all was. _Because it is. It is horrible. Every bit of it. I can't believe he survived like this. _

"You hardly ask to go out to the dojo and beat me every day," Kankuro said softly. "You're not like him."

His father swallowed, hard. "I try…but…"

"No buts," Kankuro said. "You're just not." He pointed to the closed book he'd left on the end table. "I don't care what you think you read. It doesn't apply to you. You're not abusive."

"Kankuro…" His father shifted, hugging him gently.

"I'm not saying that because I'm screwed in the head," Kankuro said.

"I didn't say that," Yondaime said.

"No, but you've been saying it," Kankuro said. "I'm not in love with you because you made me or something. I am my own person, and you can't stop me from being in love. And it's not the worst thing in the world anyway. There are lots of worse people to love than you. You're not a monster – just like Gaara isn't. Aren't you the one that's always saying Gaara isn't a monster and that people should learn to love him? Give him a chance?"

His father looked at him guiltily. "Gaara is a whole other subject we will not get into any time soon. My failure there is monumental, and there is no way I can possibly fix it, no matter how hard I try. He will always believe that I hate him, that I am cruel to him, and that I want to kill him. There is no way to rectify it."

"Okay," Kankuro said, because he knew a discussion of Gaara would only make his father feel worse.

"I want you to give me a chance," his father said softly. "I want you to give me a chance to fix things, to love you, to give you the affection and trust you need from me. But not this way. Not by offering you Karura's spot in my life. No one occupies that space. No one can. I am not a good candidate for a healthy relationship of that kind. Together, in therapy, we can work on a father/son bond. But that is all I have to offer you. It will never be romantic."

Kankuro nodded slowly, taking this explanation in. "I wanna be close to you." _Like this_. "And I still say I'm in love with you. It's not simply Genetic Sexual Attraction. That's what you didn't let me get around to. I don't think that's it. That's not the only answer. GSA is always bottom-lined as lust. And yeah, I feel that for you. I'm not going to lie. You're beautiful, and I'm attracted to you. But I also love you. I love you so much I want to be there for you, and that seems romantic to me."

His father sighed. "This is something we will discuss in therapy. With a professional. I can't offer you any answers, Kankuro. I can only offer my sincere apologies and my determination to make this right." He squeezed Kankuro gently. "One way or another, we will build a relationship in which you feel loved. Because that is what you deserve."

_But what about you? Don't you deserve to be loved? _Kankuro felt his father was still missing the point. "Yeah. I'm aware of my rights. And I'm holding you to that." He smirked. "One way or another, you're gonna be there for me. Because I won't let you retreat and hide."

"I appreciate that," Yondaime said. He gave Kankuro such a look of sadness and gratitude that Kankuro almost kissed him right then and there.

Kankuro hugged him tightly. "Let's go to bed. And this time, you're going to let me hold you all night."

"You better not get used to it," Yondaime said. "Because that is going to be the first thing the therapist says is wrong."

Kankuro grinned and stood, helping his father up. "But you're not saying no."

"Tonight? I'm too tired." Yondaime gave him a look. "I wonder why that is."

Kankuro chuckled. "Probably because I argued with you all night."

"That could be it," his father agreed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

By the time Monday rolled around, Kankuro had begun to hope that his father would drop the whole family therapy idea.

Such hopes proved unrealistic. His father dismissed the rest of his team after they got back from a trash patrol mission, and kept Kankuro behind.

Temari glanced over her shoulder at Kankuro before she left, clearly thinking Kankuro had gotten in trouble.

Neither Yondaime nor Kankuro bothered to correct her assumption. Kankuro, though, suspected their father wanted to talk to him about something relating to Kankuro's feelings.

"What is it?" Kankuro asked.

"Well…" His father hesitated. "It's really recommended that we engage in family counseling one pair of people at a time. To make it really personal and in depth between us. A private dialogue that other members of the family don't have to see, or have a chance to criticize."

"I think that's wise." Kankuro nodded slowly.

His father shifted uncomfortably.

"So are we going first?" Kankuro asked. "You and me?"

His father nodded. "I think that's best. Don't you?"

"Yeah." Kankuro couldn't say he wasn't disheartened to go, but he understood why it was necessary. His father was just being an adult and trying to do the most responsible thing possible, even if it was the hardest.

He just didn't think a therapist was going to understand him. And he felt uneasy about admitting to someone besides his father that he had these feelings.

But he'd go.

"When?" Kankuro asked.

His father hesitated again. "Today. I got us in with a private practice today. I get off work at four. We'll go over to the therapy building after work."

"Oh." Kankuro tried not to feel sick. His heart started beating harder.

**xXx**

The therapy office Yondaime had chosen was on the third floor of an office building. Kankuro could read from the large Information sign inside the door on the ground floor that the office building rented suites to all sorts of different businesses. Consulting services of some kind.

His father stopped in front of the information sign with him and squeezed his shoulder. "We're third floor, suite 113," he said, tracing the entry with a finger so that Kankuro could pick it out of the list. "After the Storm Therapeutic Health Services."

That name didn't make Kankuro feel any better. "Okay." The lunch he'd eaten while waiting for his father to get off work sat uneasily in his stomach. "We have an appointment?"

"Yes," Yondaime said simply. He directed Kankuro down the hallway, past a pair of elevator doors, and up two flights of stairs.

Kankuro wasn't surprised that they avoided the elevator. His father hated elevators. He could still remember his father's explanation, almost word for word. '_Enclosed little boxes hanging from strings are much harder to get out of in case of emergency than having access to a stairwell or a window,'_ his father had said. '_Elevators are for civilians.'_

Kankuro couldn't exactly disagree. He wasn't a big fan of elevators, either. They lurched too much; first up, and then down. Did people really have to design something that missed the mark it was shooting for every time and have to compensate by lowering back down a few feet?

They reached the shiny glass door for suite 113 the old fashioned way, read the name painted on the door – After the Storm, in cursive-like katakana – and went inside. His father opened the door and ushered him in first, leaving Kankuro with no doubts as to whether or not he could escape.

The waiting room was a subdued collection of slate blue and maroon, with a dark navy blue carpet. There were upholstered chairs in rows to sit in, either slate blue or maroon in color, with maple arm rests. A reception area at the front of the room looked like any other medical reception desk: a long desk that seated receptionists in a row of three, behind a glass sheet with windows cut into it to mark the booths.

Yondaime approached while Kankuro stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. He spoke quietly and respectfully to the receptionist, a woman in her twenties with long brown hair.

She nodded and bade them to sit down.

Yondaime sat.

Kankuro stood by his father's chair. There was no way he could sit down in this uncomfortably unfamiliar place. Besides, they were only five minutes early. If this place operated on time, he'd just have to jump up again in five minutes.

His father didn't comment on his choice to stand.

A woman with long blonde hair opened the door that led back into the therapy offices. She stood in the doorway, holding a clipboard in one hand. She was tall, for a woman; two inches taller than Yondaime. Her uniform was a fitted white coat like a cross between a martial arts coat and a doctor's coat. "Yondaime-sama and Kankuro-dono?"

The question was automatic, since they were in her line of sight, and were the only people in the waiting room.

Yondaime stood. "Yes."

Kankuro just crossed his arms and nodded. _She's not so intimidating, I guess_. It didn't bother him that she was taller than both him and his father.

She bowed. "My name is Yuna. I am a family counselor who specializes in conflict resolution."

"Conflict resolution?" Kankuro asked.

"Yes," Yuna said. "That means that I help families work out their differences." She gestured, intertwining her fingers and smiling. "Please, come this way." She turned around, holding the door open for them, and led them down the hall. "My office is around the corner to the left. You'll see it; it's marked Peace Room, 115. Yuna."

Kankuro and Yondaime nodded.

Kankuro had to admit there was something calming about this therapist's demeanor. He already felt less threatened to be here.

Yuna opened the door to her office and stood aside. "You may enter first, Yondaime-sama, Kankuro-dono."

They did so. She followed them in and closed the door gently. It latched with a small click.

"Please be seated." She gestured at the room. There were three seats to choose from, all of them blocky upholstered chairs. One of them was dark brown, one was maroon, and the final one was slate blue. They were clustered in a loose triangular formation around a kotatsu table. In the far corner was a small desk made of dark wood, with an office chair behind it. There was a book case against the near wall, and a tall cabinet with a potted plant perched on top of it. All in all it was an average, mild-to-boring room.

Kankuro and Yondaime took the two chairs side by side, leaving the isolated dark brown chair for the therapist. Yondaime took the maroon chair, Kankuro the slate blue. Kankuro's chair was to the left of his father's.

Yuna crossed the room and sat down, resting her clip board on her lap.

"I am not in a position to judge you," she said. "Only guide you. My foremost loyalty is to my clients, not some institution. I am a resource for you. No one else is going to know what we speak of. Jutsus make sure of that." She gestured with one hand. "This information is not going to leave this room."

Kankuro swallowed and took a deep breath. _This is it_. He looked to his father.

His father took a deep breath as well. "Well, Yuna-san, our problem is thus."

Kankuro squirmed during his father's breakdown of their encounters over the past week, starting with the kiss at the office.

"And what would be your concerns?" Yuna asked. She looked from one to the other. "You mentioned you had a lengthy talk about the psychological ramifications of what was going on. What was your main conclusion based on this talk?"

The first thing they did was bring up the issue of Genetic Sexual Attraction. Both of them explained how they felt. When they'd drained their anxiety and spoken their minds, they both sat back and waited for the therapist's response.

"I appreciate the research you and your son have done and the concerns you may have." She looked from one to the other. "But your son's reported feelings, and your own, do not meet the criteria for GSA."

Yondaime opened his mouth.

She held up a hand.

He shut his mouth again and meekly waited.

"GSA is a real phenomenon, one experienced by about fifty percent of reuniting family members," Yuna said. "This happens because of purely instinctive sexual drives as a result of puberty. When family members do not experience puberty around each other, and then meet, Genetic Sexual Attraction can happen. This is because the appearance of the person in their mature form has not been normalized. In other words, they meet each other for the first time as two adults. Genetics takes over, and one or both people are overcome by a sense of attraction; a visceral approval of that person's worthiness as a sex partner."

Kankuro listened to this explanation numbly. "That's not me," he said finally, when he realized the therapist was done speaking.

She nodded, looking at him sympathetically. "I know."

"And what we've gone through doesn't sound like that at all," Yondaime said. "I was there when Kankuro was experiencing his changes. I was the one who walked him through all of that. I was never absent from his development. He was still in the Academy at that point. We were very close. I did everything I could to make his passage into adulthood an easy one."

"You did," Kankuro said. "It was very easy. I didn't feel embarrassed at all – in front of you. At school they were horrible, but what else could they be? They were all going through the same thing, and everyone says puberty makes you crazy. Everybody in my class was cranky and mean about it."

"I'm sorry you were bullied," his father said. He swallowed. "I still wish you would have let me put a stop to it."

"You made me feel better when I got home," Kankuro said. "We always talked about it. You never ignored how I was feeling. And using your position to squelch any of the bullies would have resulted in resentful parents. You know I didn't want anyone using you for target practice. You have enough problems already."

Yuna listened to them talk, and then chose this break in the conversation to speak. She addressed Yondaime. "The main concern you are feeling in this situation is that you may have groomed Kankuro to take Karura's place."

"Yes," Yondaime said fervently, seeming relieved that she brought it up. "That is a definite yes. I am concerned about that. Very much so. I don't trust myself. Not at all."

She nodded and gestured to Kankuro. "First of all, let's ask your son: Do you feel groomed?"

"No," Kankuro said immediately.

"Alright," she said. "So if it's happened, it hasn't been obvious. Correct?"

Yondaime nodded slowly, his gaze dropping as he thought about that.

Kankuro sighed, and then nodded as well. He crossed one leg over the other. "Yeah. I guess. But I don't think I've been groomed or enmeshed or abused at all. I feel like we have a good, healthy relationship, except my father is sad all the time and won't let me help with anything."

"Sadness and depression are difficult things to help someone with," Yuna said. "I don't blame you for not being able to help, or for Yondaime-sama's unwillingness to let you try. It's a complicated topic best tackled through therapy."

"Which I will go to," Yondaime said. "I am through running."

"But you will need family support," she said. She pointed to Kankuro. "Your son should support you during this difficult time. But with structure."

Yuna said to Kankuro, "I recommend you go to at least one session for depression counseling with your father, so that you learn what you can do to support him and promote a full recovery. There are things you can do to help him manage his depression."

Kankuro was relieved. He'd been afraid the therapist would automatically shut him down and make him leave his father alone to deal with the misery in solitude. "I will." He gave his father a soft smile. "Of course I will go to therapy with you and support you. I'm here, aren't I?"

Yondaime nodded slowly. "But what about this grooming business? Did I or did I not damage my son by molding him to be Karura's replacement?"

"That is something we're going to have to discuss," Yuna said. She shot a look at Kankuro and clarified, "We have to put your concerns at rest if you are ever going to get any peace."

"Yes," Yondaime said, relieved. "I need to know." He closed his eyes and bowed his head. Then he took a deep breath and looked at them both. "I need to know so that I can fix it if I have done anything wrong."

"First, let me define what child grooming is," the therapist said.

"Please," Kankuro said. "I'm not sure I'm clear on that." He hadn't even thought about researching that topic. The best clue he had was what his father kept saying, which was that it was about somehow brainwashing a kid to be a parent's replacement spouse.

"Child grooming is the process of gaining a child's trust in order to prepare them for abuse," Yuna said. "Most commonly sexual. This involves gaining the trust of the caregivers of the child, befriending the child and setting oneself up as an unconditionally loving, special friend, and then gradually introducing sexual elements into the relationship until the child is desensitized."

Kankuro felt his stomach lurch. He glanced at his father. His father appeared horrified and disgusted. _So it's not exactly what he thought it was._

The therapist seemed unmoved by their responses. "So, I would like to ask you some questions, Yondaime-sama."

Yondaime nodded. "Okay." His voice was hoarse.

"Kankuro is now a legal adult…" the therapist started.

Kankuro and Yondaime both nodded.

"But when he was a minor, did you in any way expose him to sexual themes or images for the purpose of arousing him?"

That question sank in Kankuro's stomach like a brick. "Guh. No."

Yondaime shook his head.

"Did you give him presents or enticements in order to manipulate him into touching you inappropriately?" the therapist asked.

"No," Kankuro said.

Yondaime glanced at his son, then answered the therapist himself. "I did not. There was no inappropriate touching."

"Did you ever initiate a game or introduce a game that would facilitate opportunities to touch your son inappropriately?" the therapist asked.

"No," Yondaime said, decisively.

"Did you touch him inappropriately during sparring sessions or during bath times, bed times, helping your son get dressed, et cetera?" the therapist asked.

"No." Yondaime shook his head.

"Definitely not," Kankuro added. He was angry at the questions, even though he knew their necessity.

"Did you ever expose yourself around your son, perhaps in the context of comparing his developing body to your own? Do you allow your son full privacy when bathing and using the bathroom?"

"I don't expose myself around my children, have never 'measured' their development by sight, and do, in fact, enforce privacy rules about the bathroom," Yondaime said.

"When your son was young enough to climb into bed with you at night, did you ever fondle him, hug him, encourage nudity, kiss his body, or do tickling below the waist?" the therapist asked.

Kankuro was horrified.

"No, I did not," his father said, looking sickened as well.

The therapist shrugged, as calm as ever. "Then you have nothing to worry about. You did nothing to groom Kankuro or encourage him to think of you sexually, even subconsciously. You were appropriate in every way around your son."

Yondaime relaxed back in his chair, only to tense up again and look at Kankuro uneasily. "Then why is he like this?"

"I believe the answer to that question lies with Kankuro," Yuna said simply. She gestured to Kankuro. "I suggest that we ask him for answers to this phenomenon."

Yondaime nodded slowly. "I have asked him about this before…we've attempted to discuss…but…" He took a deep breath and admitted, "I was resistant. I did not really want to hear it, fearing that I had damaged him in some way, and that I was responsible."

Kankuro knew that, of course. He wasn't surprised to hear his father say it; however, it was gratifying to hear his father admit it. "Yeah, I know. You put up a lot of resistance and didn't really let me speak my feelings because you were afraid to hear them. You didn't wanna know how I felt because you felt like it meant you'd messed up."

Yondaime nodded. He gave Kankuro a tired, sad look. "I'm sorry, son. I'm through running. I'll listen to everything you have to tell me about these feelings. I should be listening to you. I am your father. I need to be there for you and do the things that others won't. Or can't. I have unique responsibilities to you, and I need to honor them."

"Very well put," Yuna said. She took a deep breath. "However, you cannot carry this burden alone. That is why I would like you both to come in for weekly sessions to discuss Kankuro's sexual feelings towards you and what your feelings are in return."

Kankuro watched his father blanch. "In return?" Yondaime asked weakly.

"Yes." Yuna gestured with a frown. "Your feelings in return are just as important as Kankuro's feelings in the first place. We cannot allow either side of this discussion to dominate. Instead, this exchange of feelings must be equal."

Yondaime wilted.

"There is no reason to be embarrassed," the therapist said gently. "This is family therapy. Not 'Kankuro therapy'."

"I get that," Yondaime said, sounding remarkably like his son for an instant. Then he straightened and visibly gathered his courage. "I will talk about my feelings. Of course I will."

"You didn't expect that, did you?" Kankuro said wryly. "Yuna-san's going to lay down the law."

His father flushed.

Yuna smiled. "Kankuro, please don't taunt your father. Feelings are difficult for all of us. Especially your father's generation or earlier. Your generation is being encouraged like never before to share your feelings. In the old days, feelings among shinobi were discouraged, to the degree that shows of emotion, emotional displays as simple as smiling, were sometimes beaten out of shinobi children. Please do not underestimate how difficult feelings are to talk about for Yondaime-sama."

Kankuro's smile faded. He looked at his father with sympathy, thinking back to the abuse they'd already discussed at home. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like I don't know it's hard. I do. The things that happened to you were hard; and it's hard to talk about them and other things. You'll always be my dad, and I'll always love you, no matter what you do. Please don't be sad thinking I could never understand you. I will. We just need to talk more."

"What about it?" Yuna asked Yondaime quietly.

Yondaime nodded slowly. His shoulders slumped. "I'll do everything I can to honor your requests, Kankuro. I'll talk whenever it is necessary to…explain my feelings, to you."

"That would be all the time," Kankuro said. "I always want to know what you're feeling."

That statement hung in the room for a moment.

"I think this is a good start," Yuna said. She stood. "Please come back and see me next week." She bowed. "I will arrange a time with your office, Kazekage-sama."

Yondaime stood as well. "That will be fine."

"What about me?" Kankuro protested mildly. He got the hint that the session was over, and stood up too.

His father gave him a slight smile. "I will, of course, see that this appointment does not come into conflict with your missions."

Kankuro smiled wryly. "Right…Cause you control that kind of thing. Thanks, Kazekage-Dad."

Yondaime snorted and looked at his son in amusement. "What…"

Yuna laughed and covered her hand with her mouth.

Kankuro grinned. "Just thought I would lighten the mood a little bit."

"A sense of humor is very important for a recovery from these sorts of things," Yuna said, gesturing with her pen. "I would advise that you keep your sense of humor about you."

Kankuro bowed theatrically. "Will do."

"Yes," his father said, giving him a fond smile. "He will assuredly do that."

Kankuro wanted to give his father a hug, but he was too self-conscious around their new therapist. He crossed the space between them and playfully linked arms, instead. "See ya, then. I guess it's goodbye until next week."

"I'll walk you out," Yuna said.

She walked them as far as the waiting room, and then bid them farewell with a final bow.

They walked from there out of the waiting room, down the hall, and down two flights of stairs to the ground floor, where they exited the building.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

They went home and had dinner with Temari and Gaara.

"So, what's up?" Temari asked casually. "What took you so long to get home? Did Kankuro get in trouble?"

"It would not be any of your business if he were to get in trouble, but no," Yondaime said mildly. He ate a piece of sweet potato tempura. "Kankuro is not in trouble."

"Hn," Gaara said. He didn't look interested in the conversation. Instead, he was picking at his vegetable tempura, which he was only slightly more prone to eating than vegetables not coated in fried bread. There really were few ways to convince Gaara to eat vegetables.

Kankuro ate his tempura onions and zucchini with gusto. He was hungry after all that serious discussion at the therapist's office. Normally, he wasn't a big fan of vegetables either, but if it was tempura, he was more inclined to eat it without internally complaining.

What he really liked was the special teriyaki chicken the cook made, commonly known as General Tso's. _Awesome._ He grinned to himself, chewing on a bite. _Every time. My favorite. _

He didn't think he could have a better day. His father was ordered to listen to his feelings, and also to discuss his own feelings about things. Genetic Sexual Attraction was no longer a spectre that haunted every consideration of why he felt the feelings he did towards his father, and his father couldn't blame himself for 'grooming'.

_Although, hearing about that was pretty gross_. Kankuro frowned.

"Earth to Kankuro," Temari said wryly.

"What?" Kankuro looked up from his plate.

"I asked why you and Dad were late if you didn't get in trouble," Temari said.

"And I said that is none of your business," Yondaime said pointedly.

"Aw, tell 'em," Kankuro said. "They're going to find out when they start going with you anyway."

Their father looked uncomfortable.

"Going where?" Gaara asked suspiciously.

"Therapy," Yondaime said.

Kankuro backed him up. "It's a good thing. It'll work out our differences, and…um…you'll like it. Maybe. The therapist we went to see today isn't so bad. Her name is Yuna. Yuna-san is pretty great, actually."

"Whatever," Temari said. She looked confused. "Why…do we need to go to therapy? There's nothing wrong with us. We're an average family."

Kankuro slid his gaze to Gaara. "Average?"

"Every family's got problems." Temari shrugged.

"And I'm this family's problem," Gaara said. "How is therapy going to kill me?"

"We're not trying t kill you," Kankuro retorted.

"Hn." Gaara looked down at his plate. He ate a tempura carrot, scowling.

"Honestly." Temari sighed.

"If any of you were honest, you would admit that you want me dead," Gaara said.

"None of us want you dead," Temari said.

"I think that's enough," Yondaime said softly. "Let Gaara eat his dinner. We will discuss these issues with a professional, in therapy. Discussions here between us aren't getting us anywhere, with any of our issues. We should consult someone whose profession is solving problems between family members."

"When?" Gaara asked without looking up.

"Kankuro and I will get the hang of it first, and then, when you are ready, we will incorporate you, too," Yondaime said gently. "Please do not be alarmed, Gaara. This is a good thing. Talking about our feelings with a professional will help."

"Hn." Gaara nodded once and bowed his head, closing his eyes.

Kankuro sighed. He knew Gaara didn't believe them. Gaara didn't believe anything could be fixed. _Well, he's just going to have to see. When Father and I have made progress, we'll show Gaara, and Gaara will believe therapy can work. It's a plan. _That decided, he pushed the thoughts from his head that had to do with worrying about his little brother, he focused on the positive: his progress with their dad today in therapy.

After dinner, everyone went upstairs to get ready for bed.

Then, instead of meeting back in the living room, his father stopped him in the upstairs hallway and quietly asked, "Would you be willing to meet in my bedroom?"

Kankuro nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

His father patted his arm. "Thank you."

"No problem." Kankuro watched his father go down the hallway, then continued on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and scrub off his face paint. He'd just got done changing into his pajamas.

When he was done, Kankuro went to his father's door and knocked.

"Come in," his father called.

Kankuro opened the door to his father's bedroom and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him.

His father wore a subdued blue yukata made of light material intended for sleeping in. He sat on the edge of his bed, on the side with the night stand. His overhead light was off, but the lamp in the room was on.

Yondaime patted the bed beside him.

Kankuro came over sat down in the spot his father indicated.

"Tell me honestly," his father said. "Did you hate it?"

Kankuro was surprised. He assumed his father was talking about the therapy appointment, but he hadn't known that he'd shown any signs of hating it. "I know I was apprehensive at first, but…"

"If you hated it that much, we can stop going," Yondaime said. "Or we can find a different counselor."

"Nah…I like her." Kankuro grinned.

His father looked surprised.

Kankuro guessed, "It's you that doesn't like her."

Yondaime flushed.

Kankuro grinned. "Ha. I knew it."

His father squirmed. "She's so…straight-forward. All those questions…"

Kankuro's amusement instantly transformed into concern. He wrapped an arm around his father and hugged his father to his side. "No one thinks those things. Yuna-san just had to ask those questions because she had to. You wouldn't see what she meant unless she asked you about those things. You didn't do anything bad to me. So just relax."

His father nodded, clearly trying to convince himself. "I guess you're right. I didn't act unjustly…"

"No. Not at all." Kankuro looked at his father sympathetically. "In fact, you've been a great dad. Anyone would say so under the circumstances. You've had to raise me all by yourself. And Gaara. And Temari. It's a handful. I'm a handful. We all are, in our own ways. And yet, you're still our dad. You never leave. You never tell us to solve our own problems. You always try. Even Gaara, who hates you…you always try to talk things out first before buying him off with some present or leaving him to his own devices. It's his fault he doesn't wanna talk." That hurt Kankuro too, but he wasn't going to get into that. "I love you. I don't want you to be sad or beat yourself up."

Yondaime sighed. "That's right. I must schedule an appointment for depression counseling. I must not waver from my established course: getting help and improving myself, so that you can have a better father."

"Is that why you're doing this? Not to get healthier?" Kankuro was saddened by that. "Just to please me?"

"Not just you," his father protested. "I want to reconnect with Temari and Gaara, too. I feel so estranged from them. I have let them down…Temari, by not being her mother. Gaara, by not being…not being able to erase that one thing that I did that shattered everything."

"That wasn't your fault," Kankuro protested.

"Yes, it was." His father straightened, grimly determined. "It was. I could have given the order for Yashamaru to desist. I didn't. Now Gaara is crushed and Yashamaru is dead and our family is torn apart, and Karura probably hates me…"

"She doesn't hate you," Kankuro said, alarmed. _And he hasn't even been drinking anything. God, is this really what he thinks, all the time? That Mom's angry at him? That she hates him?_

"I couldn't harm you. Or Temari. But somehow I harmed Gaara, the most precious of you all, the one your mother wanted to protect…" Yondaime was shaking.

"You didn't," Kankuro said. "You weren't there."

"My eye was," Yondaime said. "My eye jutsu. I should have stopped it. I should have reacted quickly, not stood there and watched and wondered what was going on. I didn't understand. I didn't understand until it was too late. One minute Gaara was throwing up, and the next, he was enraged, he…he…Oh, god, what have I done? I keep asking myself: What have I done? What have I done to our child?"

Kankuro wrapped his arms around his father and rocked his father gently, horrified and confused. His father never talked about that night.

Yondaime smiled at him weakly. "You said to talk about my feelings…You and the therapist said I should talk about my feelings…and this happened. I exploded. I'm sorry, my son. I should have held it in better. But the pain…" He paled, and started shaking all over again. "The pain of seeing our child, your mother and my precious child, our tiny child, subjected to that kind of…torture, and then…" He shook his head, wide-eyed, as if no words would come.

"Hey, I remember that night, too," Kankuro said quietly. "You were crying. A lot. That was the first and last time I saw you cry, until last week. Dad…I understand. I mean, I don't understand what happened, and I don't claim to know what you've gone through, but I know about needing to cry. Sometimes…you just need to. Don't be ashamed." He took a chance, and cupped the back of his father's head, encouraging his father to rest his head.

Yondaime rested his head against Kankuro's shoulder obediently.

"I know that you think about that night all the time now, and you think about the night Mom died…but I don't think you should be ashamed of crying. Crying is natural, and not crying…well, that's like…wrong. Because you should cry when something hurts you. It's better than holding it in." Kankuro looked at his father anxiously.

Yondaime smiled, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. "Thank you, Kankuro…for that wisdom, your mother was always good at giving to me. I have missed…that wisdom…" He cried helplessly, clinging to Kankuro. "I shouldn't be. I shouldn't be relying on you. But I need you so much. I'm sorry."

Kankuro rocked his father back and forth, stroking his father's back. "I know that if I were crying, you would hold me, too. So it's okay. Please don't be ashamed to cry. I'm here. I'm here for you." He was relieved that after everything that happened, his father came back to this point.

No, he didn't want his father to cry, but if his father did feel like crying, he wanted to be there to be able to offer comfort. Kankuro had become terribly afraid of being shut out. He dared to stroke his father's hair. He was surprised to find that his father's hair was actually very fine and silky. In spite of its spiky appearance, it was anything but stiff or dry.

His father seemed relieved by the affection. Kankuro could almost physically feel his father soaking it up.

"You've been neglected for too long," Kankuro said softly. "You need me now. You need someone to fill the gap in you. I read that children who have been abused need a lot of love and affection and reassurance. You never got any of that, did you? You didn't get it until Mom came along. And then she left. She didn't mean to, but the net effect was that you were left alone. And you were abused again. I know you were. Grandfather came around, and you were always afraid. I knew you didn't want to see him, but he showed up anyway. And he wanted to talk to you in the back, in the study, and you'd go just to please him, and you'd come out hours later, looking like…like…"

His eyes widened. "Oh my god. Dad…was he beating you as an adult? Even then? Was he…was he hurting you? Physically hurting you? Dad? Answer me."

His father progressively curled into him with every question, hiding against his body.

"I'm not angry," Kankuro said automatically.

His father raised his head and peeked at Kankuro's face. "You're not?"

"Why would I be?" Kankuro asked.

"For being weak," his father said as if it were obvious.

"No," Kankuro protested. He cupped his father's cheek and stroked it gently, caressing startlingly smooth skin.

"I would be angry if my father was weak," Yondaime said. "Fathers should stand up to the people that threaten them, so that they can protect their children. I capitulated to whatever he wanted me to do in order to protect you and Temari and Gaara, because I couldn't do anything else. Whenever he came around, I was afraid that he would hurt you or one of your siblings. Even Gaara, I was afraid for, because I didn't know what my father was capable of. He might have. He might have done something. And then I would be left with…" Tears welled up in his eyes. "Left with an even greater failure than before."

Kankuro really tried not to draw any premature conclusions. He wondered if he should even ask. His father was upset enough already. _No,_ he decided. _Not now. It would just make Father upset more. _His decision didn't stop his imagination from running wild about what happened between his grandfather and his father behind the closed door of the study. "It's okay. You weren't weak. I understand. There was nothing else you could do. You still protected me and Temari and Gaara, so you're still strong. You're brave. You did what you had to in the situation to keep us safe. You kept us safe from Grandfather by sacrificing yourself."

"That's what any father should do," Yondaime said. It was more of a whimper.

Kankuro squeezed his father gently. "I agree. I agree that you set very high standards of fatherhood for yourself, and you met them repeatedly, no matter what was in the way. You're a success as a father, even by your own standards. You went above and beyond for us. You protected us no matter what, even Gaara, even though he doesn't recognize how much protection you've given him by insisting that he live with us, even when the Council wanted to keep him away from the Kazekage Complex. You've made up for what happened to him for his entire life since then. You're his father, you feel responsible, and you're doing something about it instead of cowering in darkness. You're still trying to be his father. You're sacrificing everything you can. Please don't sacrifice me, on top of it. You need me. You need me to be here for you."

His father looked amazed, and stunned. He allowed himself to be rocked and soothed, allowed his head to be petted. Then his eyelids drooped, and Kankuro pulled his father into the bed, raising the covers and getting the covers over the both of them.

"I'm here." Kankuro lay on his back and nestled his father against his chest. "I'm here, and everything's alright now. You didn't do anything bad to me. I have no reason to hate you." He kissed the top of his father's head. "In fact, I love you. I love you, you're such a great father. I love you and I want to take care of you. I'm going to."

His father fitfully fell asleep, shifting suddenly several times before finally falling into a deep enough slumber to assure Kankuro that it was okay to fall asleep as well.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Kankuro woke to the sound of his father whimpering. He was disoriented, warm, comfortable. Concern broke through and cleared his head. "Dad…it's okay." He hesitated. He wished he knew what his father's name was before his father became Yondaime. A personal name would soothe his father better than just being called 'Dad'. That was so impersonal somehow. Compared to the kind of bond he wanted with his father, it was.

That brought him a whole new realization: his father wasn't just a father to him. His father was a person. A person Kankuro very much wanted to cherish.

His father let out a hushed moan and fell back asleep, turning over on his side.

Kankuro sighed. He didn't know if he could go back to sleep. He contented himself with stroking his father's shoulder, which his father didn't seem to mind. It certainly didn't want his father up.

Somehow, the soothing motion of trying to comfort his father made Kankuro drop back into slumber.

**xXx**

In the morning, when the sun streamed through his father's window, Kankuro woke up to the sight of his father's back. He was on his side, and his father sat on the edge of the bed.

At the feeling of Kankuro shifting, Yondaime looked over his shoulder at his son. "Nights are the worst." He smiled ruefully. "Thank you."

Kankuro sat up, running his fingers through his hair. "No problem."

Yondaime nodded. "I appreciate it. And I appreciate your discretion. I can't imagine how Gaara and Temari would react to me…"

_…Would react to you being a nervous wreck?_ _I don't know. Maybe they'd be a little gentler with you,_ Kankuro thought. But he wouldn't say that. He knew his father was entitled to dignity and respect, and that his father feared losing respect.

"Someday," Kankuro said softly, "you need to tell everyone about your dad. How awful he was."

Yondaime froze. Then he stood carefully and turned to face Kankuro, expressionless. "I believe that subject is not fit for 6:30 in the morning, before any of us have had any breakfast."

Kankuro sighed, feeling shut out, but he nodded. _I understand. You hate it. You don't wanna talk about Grandfather or the things that happened. But you have to. At some point…you have to. It's necessary for healing. _No one ever got better by keeping everything inside.

They went their separate ways to get ready for work. Kankuro took a quick shower and got dressed, then went downstairs.

At breakfast, everything on the surface was as normal as it had ever been. Temari silently ate her breakfast. Gaara sulked and picked at it. Kankuro ate his with a rumbling stomach, pacing himself carefully. Yondaime ate with the same grace and poise as ever, pausing often as some new thought occurred to him. Kankuro could tell by the expression on their father's face that he was already working on the village's problems even though he hadn't gotten to the office yet.

Once they were all done eating, they trailed across the Complex to Yondaime's office. Baki picked them up from there for their mission.

"Today, I would like you to take my children on patrol," Yondaime said, handing over the mission scroll to Baki. "North side. Please go beyond the canyons to Suna's border, and survey for four hours before coming back to the village."

Baki bowed. "Yes, Yondaime."

_A nice, boring mission,_ Kankuro thought resignedly. Last month, he and his siblings had almost been killed on an S-Class mission. Ever since then, their father had them on light duty. Not that his father would ever admit it. That would patronize Temari, anger Gaara, and…well…Kankuro wasn't sure how their father thought he would react. _With anger, maybe? A temper tantrum?_

Kankuro, due to Gaara, had a bad habit of holding in his anger over something until he exploded. Usually, it was something random that set him off. Like being bumped into on the street, or being interrupted when he was practicing his drawing skills. Because of that, he'd gained a reputation for being 'touchy' and 'a punk'. He didn't bother to correct anybody. The tougher and meaner you seemed in Suna, the better.

He and the rest of his team headed out for the border.

**xXx**

The desert was quiet. Most of the animals came out after dark, so the sand dunes were barren. Far off in the distance, hawks circled in the sky, signaling that some animal had died. Or was about to. The red canyons that protected their home stood behind them, impassively watching. Out before them, the dunes went so far that they became blue smudges in the distance, smearing against the horizon. The sky was light, bright blue, clear and motionless. The only clouds were fragile little things far up in the atmosphere. It was a good day.

On a bad day, the winds would be howling, and no one would be allowed on patrol for fear of being buried or sand-blasted into an ivory skeleton. The winds got that fierce. Clean the meat off your bones fierce. That was why Suna had been build in the center of the sheltering cliffs. Otherwise, no life would be possible on this side of the desert.

After they finished their patrol in terms of covering the perimeter from one end to the other, they retreated to the shadows of the cliffs' rocky foothills to stay out of the blaring sun. Baki chose a vantage point where they could keep an eye on the border.

"Everyone hunker down," Baki said. He added in a mutter, "We're gonna be here a while."

_Four hours, to be exact,_ Kankuro thought. But he didn't say it. He tried not to be flippant or purposefully grating to Baki.

He had a good relationship with his new team leader, even though Baki had only been his sensei for a couple months. They connected on a visceral level. It was like, in a weird way, they'd always been friends. Kankuro never had that experience. He always had to work very hard to connect with others. So Baki was someone special to him already.

Kankuro remembered suddenly that his father mentioned leading Baki's team at one point in Baki's childhood. _Hey, yeah…if Dad won't talk to me, then I'll talk to Baki._

He glanced around. Gaara was already farther up in the foothills, finding his own rocky alcove to hang out at. He sat with his gourd in the shade, peering out at the desert expressionlessly.

Temari had found a comfortable spot a few yards away, and sat with her fan open to deflect some of the heat.

Kankuro stayed sitting by Baki's side. Their sensei sat comfortably cross-legged, not seeming to mind the rough stone they sat on at all.

"So, Baki…is it okay if I talk?" Kankuro asked.

Baki glanced at him with surprise. "Of course. As long as you keep alert to our surroundings, Kankuro."

"I will," Kankuro promised. He made sure to face out towards the desert. "Father says he led your team once."

Baki smiled. "It's true. Yondaime did lead my team. For three years. Your father's team was not my first one; but I cherished it greatly. The chance to work with your father was immensely satisfying. He is a talented man, and loyal."

Kankuro nodded. "I didn't think he would ever leave anyone behind."

"He wouldn't," Baki assured him.

Kankuro knew there was a lot of conflict about whether the mission or the team ought to come first. In times of hardship, like now, the debate got particularly intense. Abandoning capable shinobi meant that there would be fewer people to carry missions. On the other hand, mission success was more important than ever. Since mission failure didn't feed hungry mouths.

In such times it was a comfort to know that Baki was firmly on the side of team over mission. Kankuro did not want to be sacrificed for the sake of money. Or anything else, really. In fact, he'd rather live a good, long time.

"So…you liked my father?" Kankuro asked.

"I still do," Baki said.

Kankuro nodded slowly. "I guess Father wouldn't assign a jonin sensei who couldn't stand his guts. He'd be afraid that person would take out their feelings on us – me and Temari and Gaara, I mean."

Baki nodded. "That's true."

"How old were you when you left to captain your own team?" Kankuro asked.

"I was fifteen," Baki said. "Barely. I'd made jonin, so it was expected of me."

"You made jonin under Father's command?" Kankuro asked. He perked up. That was interesting news. "You must've handled some dangerous missions with him, then."

"Most missions contain an element of risk," Baki said. He chuckled at Kankuro's avid expression. "But yes. I was there when your father had to fight some tough battles. Succeeding with your father is what granted me my promotion to jonin. It was a bittersweet moment, however. I wasn't ready to leave your father's team. Truth be told, I could have stayed happy under your father's command for the rest of my life, in an alternate universe where I was never assigned my own team and your father never took the mantle of Kazekage."

That said a lot. Kankuro absorbed that information silently, chewing his lip while he thought. "Baki…did you know my father when he met my mother?"

"Yes," Baki said. "I was there for their first meeting. Your mother commanded a team that our team worked with. We were sent on a joint mission together. By the time our teams got back to Suna, your father and mother were dating." He grinned.

Kankuro blushed slightly. "Wow…that fast, huh?"

"It was a mission that did take two weeks," Baki said. "I'm sure that was plenty of time for them to discover that they liked each other." He seemed amused by Kankuro's reaction.

Kankuro nodded, still blushing. _Sounds like a real romance. _

He belatedly realized he could spend all four hours of their stake out asking questions about his father and mother. Kankuro shook himself. _Focus on what you wanted in the first place,_ he told himself. "Baki, what do you know about Dad's father?"

Baki looked surprised. "Yondaime's father?"

"Yes," Kankuro said. "Please."

Baki's brow furrowed. He looked out across the desert. "Well…he was not a very nice man." He glanced at Kankuro quickly. "I did not know your father for long, only a few years before I led my own team, and then as Kazekage-sama, of course. But I did get to know your father's family, at least in passing. I know that your grandfather's name was Kanashu, and he had a nasty temper."

Kankuro was vaguely surprised. He wondered what Baki had witnessed. "How come you say that?"

"Well, I heard him yelling at your father more than once," Baki said wryly. "When I came by to meet with your father for training. My team sent me whenever your father was late. They figured I was braver." He backed up and explained, "I was always big for my age. So I was always the one sent to do difficult things. Like chide Sensei and bring him back for training sessions. They were afraid of your father."

"Why?" Kankuro asked.

Baki pressed his lips together. "Well…he was very stern. And sort of…" He shrugged. "You know what I mean. When he doesn't want to talk about something, he doesn't talk, and that makes students nervous."

"Ah," Kankuro said. He nodded. "Father is secretive, and that can be unsettling." Then he hesitated. It was an embarrassing question to have to ask, but there was really no other way to find out except to steal his father's birth certificate. "Baki…"

"Yeah?" Baki smiled at Kankuro patiently.

Kankuro shifted, flushing slightly. "What's father's name? I know he gave up his name to be Yondaime, and that's fine, or whatever. But I can't find it. In the album at home, all it says under pictures of him is 'husband'. That's 'cause it was my mom's doing. Putting together the album, I mean. And then when Dad took over, because she died, he didn't label any of the pictures anything at all. Nothing except the dates."

Baki snorted. "Well, if you want to know what we called him back when I was on a team under him…"

Kankuro nodded, unable to contain his eagerness.

Baki grinned. "We called him Kyou-sensei."

"Kyou-sensei?" Kankuro asked. Somehow, he'd thought there would be something more. "Kyou? That's my father's name? That's it?"

Baki laughed. "That's it." He shrugged. "I'm not sure what more there is."

"But it's so short," Kankuro said. "And simple. And…" He considered. _A short name like that could mean anything._ He was interested in that stuff because his mother had taken great pains to record all of their names in kanji, even though records spelled everything in the more utilitarian katakana. Kanji was important. Like people assumed that his name meant 'Intuitive Ninth Son', when it actually meant 'Gentle Ninth Son'. And people might assume Temari's name meant 'Sky Ball', when it really meant 'The sky's infinite logic'. Kanji was everything.

And it frustrated him that he didn't know his father's kanji; couldn't begin to guess it. Short names sometimes had hundreds of possible kanji.

Kankuro forced himself to focus and gave Baki a smile. "Thanks." At least he had a name to go on, even if he didn't know what it meant. He could surprise his father with his knowledge.

"No problem," Baki said.

For the rest of the time, they talked of unimportant things. When lunchtime rolled around, Temari joined them, but Gaara didn't.

An hour after lunch, the mission time was up, and they trekked back to the village.

**xXx**

Baki reported to Yondaime and went home. Temari and Gaara went their separate ways as well. Temari home to take a shower, and Gaara to who-knows-where to be alone.

That left Kankuro alone in the office with his father.

His father didn't seem to notice or mind. After accepting Baki's mission report, he returned to making notes about something, nodding to himself and doing that endearing habit of pressing the end of his pen to his bottom lip.

Kankuro grinned. He waited until his father was thoroughly absorbed and said, "So your name is Kyou, huh?"

His father looked up from the report he'd been reading, disconcerted. Then he laughed. "You've been speaking to Baki, haven't you?"

Kankuro approached the desk. "Uh-huh."

"So you've been nosing around," his father said good-naturedly. "Is there something you want to know specifically?"

Kankuro nodded. "Yeah. How do you spell that?"

"Spell what?" his father looked confused.

"Kyou," Kankuro said.

His father snorted. "What is the importance of that?"

"Mom knew the importance of spelling names," Kankuro said. "She made sure to record all our names. Mine, Temari's, Gaara's. She kept that information for us. But she didn't record your name. Or, I can't find it. I had to ask Baki to even find out what it was."

"Giving up one's name to become Kazekage is a tradition," his father said mildly.

"I know that, but it's stupid," Kankuro said. "It robs you of a personal identity."

"That is precisely why we are encouraged to give our names up," Yondaime said. "A Kazekage does not have a personal identity."

"Bullshit," Kankuro said.

His father looked disconcerted again, and stared at him for a few long moments. Then he looked away. "Alright. If you want to know, you want to know." He took a clean scrap of paper and scribbled something on it, then handed it to Kankuro.

Kankuro took the scrap of paper and stared at the kanji written in black ink. _This can't be right. _

His father raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Kankuro swallowed. "Why?"

His father shrugged. "We are given our names as babies. My father told me he picked that name because I wouldn't stop crying. 'It came to mind', he said."

"There ought to be a law against this," Kankuro said.

"There isn't," Yondaime said. He sounded disinterested.

"Well, there ought to be," Kankuro insisted.

"I could have my name changed if I truly wanted it to be," Yondaime said.

"Why didn't you?" Kankuro asked.

"Father wouldn't let me." Yondaime gave him a small smile. "At least until he died, that is. I doubt he could help it now. But now it doesn't matter because no one uses my name anyway."

"It matters." Kankuro had to struggle to find his voice. It was so horrible it was beyond mentioning. His father's name had been spelled with the kanji 叫. Which meant to scream and cry.

His father took in his sadness with an expression of dawning concern. "Kankuro…it doesn't bother you, does it?"

Kankuro crumpled the scrap of paper in his fist. "Of course it does!"

"But why?" His father asked. "I got over it a long time ago."

"Because it's wrong!" Kankuro exclaimed.

His father lowered his gaze to his desk. "I know. Karura said the same thing…a long time ago. She said she would always call me Koibito or Omoimono instead." Koibito and omoimono were both words for 'sweetheart'.

That explained a lot about why all the pictures in the family album were labeled 'Husband'.

"I wanted to call you something special," Kankuro said softly.

"Then call me 'Tousan'," his father said just as softly. "Because that is special." He reached out and squeezed Kankuro's hand. "To be your father is the most special thing that I could ever ask for."

Kankuro squeezed his hand in return. "Okay, then. I'll just keep calling you Tousan."

They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. Kankuro wished this moment could turn into a kiss, but he knew from last time his father would only freak out, and their moment of understanding would be ruined. So he just kept squeezing his father's hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

The rest of the day passed without event; after supper, they went their separate ways, his father retreating to the bedroom by himself. Kankuro slept in his own bed, with the company of Poko curled around his feet underneath the covers. Her fur tickled, but Kankuro didn't mind the warmth.

In the morning, after they got to the Kazekage Office, his father snagged a rare moment of privacy in which Gaara and Temari were out of the room. He motioned Kankuro over to his desk. "Quickly."

Kankuro approached, curious, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I made an appointment to see a counselor about my depression," Yondaime said. "The only time I could get is one o'clock, so I am going to be splitting my day. If you still wish to come along with me, feel welcome –"

"I do," Kankuro said quickly.

His father smiled at him. "Okay. Then it's decided."

Temari came back from getting a glass of water, and Gaara got back from the bathroom.

Five minutes later, Baki arrived to take them on their mission for the day, and they left. It was weeding and grout-cleaning the courtyard of one of the local temples. Dirty, but honest work.

**xXx**

When Kankuro and the others returned from the mission, he was sweaty and tired, but satisfied. He had used Karasu to weed out all of the little flowers and tufts of grass growing in between the tiles. Temari had swept everything up with her wind release, directing her release with her fan. Gaara had used his sand to scrub the courtyard clean afterwards. They were a team, for once. Even though the work was unorthodox, Kankuro felt proud of them.

Baki reported to their father that their teamwork had been excellent as well, a rare praise that made Kankuro glow. A glance at his sister told him that she felt the same way. She was grinning broadly.

They barely had time to go home, get cleaned up, and eat lunch before it was time for Kankuro to go back to his father's office and accompany his father to the therapy appointment.

Kankuro arrived to find his father already waiting at the door for him. They nodded to each other, and set off.

**xXx**

This time, when they arrived, they already knew the way up to After the Storm, so it took less time. They were in the waiting room for about ten minutes before someone emerged to get them.

She had dark blue hair and lighter skin, like Kankuro's family. Like most of Suna's population, she had hazel eyes. Her long hair was pulled back and secured with a white barrette. She bowed politely. "My name is Mafumi. I will be your depression counselor, Yondaime." Her uniform was the same as Yuna's: a white coat a cross between a martial arts jacket and a lab coat.

Yondaime rose and nodded to her. "Good afternoon, Mafumi-san."

Kankuro took a step forward. "Ah, Yuna-san suggested that I could come back there, too. Cause, you know, he's my father and everything."

Mafumi nodded. "Yes, please. As long as the Kazekage-sama does not object to the support, he should have it."

"I do not object," Yondaime said, in his Official Voice.

Mafumi nodded again, and with another bow, turned and gestured. "Follow me, please."

She led them back to her office. It was further inside the suite than Yuna's office. The plague on the wall read: Cloudy Room. And underneath that, Mafumi.

Kankuro snorted. "Cloudy Room?"

Mafumi turned and smiled at him wryly. "I know." She opened the door. "That is one way we keep our sense of humor around here. Most of my patients come in feeling 'cloudy' – and with any luck, they come out feeling 'sunny'."

Kankuro grinned. "I certainly hope so. My father could use a bit of sun."

Yondaime looked embarrassed.

They entered the room. The room was painted a soothing shade of blue, and also had chairs upholstered in various shades of blue. This room was larger than Yuna's room; there were four chairs clustered around a central kotatsu table, plus a desk in the back.

"This is a family therapy room," Mafumi explained, taking in the way Kankuro and Yondaime examined the room. "In the case of a family being here, I use the office chair and allow them the comfortable chairs."

Kankuro nodded. He sat down, glancing at his father to make sure his father sat down as well in the chair beside his to the left. For some reason, he had a thing about needing people to be to the left of him. He hated it when people positioned themselves to his right.

Mafumi retrieved a clipboard from her desk, along with a pen, and sat down across from them in a dark blue chair. "First things first: When clients come to me, the first visit is always about taking an assessment with me."

"Sounds fair," Yondaime said.

Mafumi nodded. "We shall begin." She glanced at Kankuro. "Please feel free to help your father if some of the questions are difficult."

"I will," Kankuro said.

Yondaime shot his son a grateful smile.

Kankuro felt good about being here. _There's no way I would make you do this by yourself, Tousan. _

"Do you feel as if you are depressed?" Mafumi asked.

"Yes," Yondaime said. "I have no doubt."

Mafumi nodded and checked something off on the paper pinned to her clipboard. "Alright. Now that that question is out of the way…" She scanned the assessment.

Kankuro and Yondaime waited patiently.

"How much exercise do you get?" Mafumi asked.

Yondaime stared at her blankly.

Kankuro wanted to smack his forehead.

"O-Once a week," Yondaime said. "If I'm lucky."

"For how long?" Mafumi asked gently.

"As long as it takes before I get interrupted," Yondaime said, as if that were the most obvious and normal thing in the world.

"I see." Mafumi pressed her lips together to hide a smile threatening to blossom.

Kankuro sighed. "You need more time to yourself."

Yondaime shrugged sheepishly. "I have a job to do, a village to run. People need me."

"People need you to be healthy," Kankuro corrected.

His father slid down in his chair a little and pouted.

This time, Mafumi couldn't contain her smile. "Yes. I'm afraid your son has a point, Kazekage-sama. Is that not why you are here?"

"I'm here to be a better father for my children," Yondaime said. "If that ends up affecting the village positively…well, I won't complain."

Mafumi nodded. "Duly noted." She looked down at her clipboard. "Now, Kazekage-sama…how do you eat?"

"Very well, thank you," Yondaime said.

Mafumi's smile grew. "I mean…do you eat well-balanced meals throughout the day? Or do you wait until you are hungry and may have a headache."

"Well…" Yondaime looked to Kankuro.

Kankuro raised an eyebrow.

His father flushed slightly. "I can be distracted sometimes…but I definitely have breakfast and dinner on time every day. Those meals I eat at home."

"Now," Kankuro teased. He couldn't resist.

His father crossed his arms over his chest, blushing miserably. "Kankuro had to come get me to ensure that I ate dinner every night at the same time as everyone else in my household, but I am used to it now. I could be responsible for my own attendance to dinner at this point."

"Uh-huh." Kankuro grinned.

Mafumi raised an eyebrow and politely quelled a smile. "I see. So your son is already helping you maintain a healthy lifestyle." She marked off Yondaime's response on her assessment.

"Yes," Yondaime said. He slid his son a look. "Kankuro is very helpful."

"And nosy," Kankuro supplied.

His father looked mortified at his honesty.

Kankuro chuckled. "Relax, Dad. It's confidential; we can say whatever we want to Mafumi-san." He looked to her. "Isn't that right? Privacy rules still exist, like those with Yuna-san?"

"Of course," Mafumi said, nodding. "I could never divulge anything you tell me, Kazekage-sama. And by extension, that includes Kankuro-dono, since he is taking part in your therapy session."

Yondaime took a deep breath and relaxed somewhat, sitting back in his chair. "Alright. I will keep that in mind and try not to be…embarrassed." He said the word as if it were something gooey stuck to his hand.

Kankuro reined in a snort.

"Do you sleep?" Mafumi asked.

"That is the question I used to ask," Kankuro joked. Something about Mafumi's quietness and respect, coupled with her sense of humor about this situation and her comfort around his father, really made Kankuro open up around her. He didn't joke around just anyone. But he felt like he could with Mafumi and not get in trouble. He'd felt that way about Yuna, too. _Man, they have some really good therapists here. Dad made an excellent choice when he decided to come here. _

"Aha," Mafumi said wryly. She turned her attention to Yondaime. "Well, do you sleep now? And for how long?"

"I sleep every night," Yondaime said mildly. "From about seven or eight o'clock until six thirty in the morning."

Mafumi looked surprised. "That long?"

"It's not enough," Yondaime said. "Trust me. To account for all the tossing and turning, the times I wake up, and the work I do…it's not enough, Maifmi-san." He looked at her earnestly. "I wake up exhausted every morning."

Mafumi pressed her lips together and looked at Yondaime solemnly. "This is definitely a sign of depression. No matter what the hard work, a man at your age who sleeps ten hours is depressed."

Yondaime sighed. "I knew that…I did not know my depression was affecting my sleep."

"Other than the nightmares," Kankuro said pointedly. "That, you could have figured. Am I right?"

His father went still. "The nightmares?"

"Oh, come off it, Dad," Kankuro said. "I could hear you. You don't think I'd notice when someone whimpers in their sleep? And I don't mean talk. I mean whimper."

Yondaime paled. He slowly turned his gaze from Kankuro to the therapist.

Mafumi looked at him sympathetically. "Kazekage-sama…nightmares among shinobi are normal. And among depressed people. Depressed people have 72% more nightmares on average. I read a sleep study recently. Regular nightmares are another sign of depression."

"Then I've always been depressed," Yondaime said automatically. Then his face went blank. Kankuro suspected that was a reaction of horror that he had admitted something like that.

Kankuro reached across, but their chairs were barely too far apart. He leapt up and stood by his father's side, squeezing his father's hand. "It's okay. We're confidential. We're not going to tell anybody. This isn't a weakness you can help. You're depressed. Depression is something you can't help feeling the effects of. That's why we're here. To get you better." He hoped his soft, soothing words would have an effect. He hated to see his father freeze up like this.

"Everyone has emotions," Mafumi said.

Yondaime relaxed. He sank back in his chair and closed his eyes, looking exhausted.

Kankuro squeezed his father's hand, more concerned than ever.

"Then I have…nightmares every night," Yondaime spoke slowly. Kankuro could hear the pain in his father's voice.

"We will be able to help with that," Mafumi said softly, nodding. "I know that by improving your life, you will have less nightmares, less frequently. We are here to help with that. All the counselors at After the Storm are versed in depression relief techniques. Please use as many resources at your disposal as you need. Some of us are massage therapists; I am not, you would have to see a different person for that, but I could recommend a few people if you wish to explore that avenue."

"Massage?" Yondaime mumbled. "Why?"

"Because massage is a way to release the stress and the toxins you've absorbed from your environment," Mafumi said gently. "You absorb a lot of that, I must imagine. Working where you do."

"Yes," Yondaime whispered.

"And at home," Kankuro said. "Gaara is poisonous. I love my brother, but he is. Especially to Dad."

Yondaime sighed. "It isn't his fault. Everything that happens to Gaara…it's my fault."

"We will discuss that later," Mafumi said gently. "For now, it is important that we complete this assessment."

Yondaime nodded. "Of course."

Kankuro wasn't about to go sit down, though. He stayed by his father's chair, holding his father's hand.

"The next question is about social support," Mafumi said.

Yondaime looked at her uneasily. "Social…support?"

Mafumi gave him a small, sympathetic smile. "Your friends. Your family. Any groups you are a part of that make you feel welcome. Tell me a little bit about your family and friends, Yondaime-sama."

Yondaime took a deep breath. "Well, I don't have any friends, and my family is reduced to me and my children. My father died last year, my mother three years before that. Karura's parents died when Kankuro was twelve, several months apart. Four, five. Something like that. Karura's father died first. Yashamaru, my brother-in-law, died when Kankuro was eight. I don't have any aunts or uncles, besides Chiyo-sama and Ebizo-sama, and, well…you can see they don't consider me family. So, there it is." He swallowed.

"No cousins, second-cousins, people you feel close to?" Mafumi asked gently.

Yondaime shrugged and looked down at the floor. "No."

"Then this must be another sign of your depression," Mafumi said. "And something that we change. Isolation is a key factor in what sustains a cycle of depression; it's like a weather cycle. Isolation is a pressure front that keeps you from moving on. You need friends."

"Ah," Yondaime said wryly.

Kankuro didn't think his father saw making friends as being possible. "He also needs to rely on his family, right?"

Yondaime shot Kankuro a look, but he smiled. Then he turned his gaze to the therapist. "As you can see, my son has an agenda," he said cheerfully.

Mafumi smiled in return. "Indeed." She shared her smile with Kankuro. "Your son is quite right. Your eldest children are fourteen and sixteen, is that correct?"

Yondaime nodded. "That is correct. Temari is sixteen, and Kankuro is fourteen."

"That is plenty old enough for you to start sharing responsibilities with them," Mafumi said. She gestured with her pen. "Even if you were a civilian family, Kankuro-dono and Temari-sama would be old enough to do that."

Yondaime hesitated. "Well…I did not want to put any undue pressure on them. You see, they are working as full-time ninjas, and so…"

"So they must lift their share of the work at home as well," Mafumi said gently.

"We have a servant staff," Yondaime said.

Mafumi gave him a knowing look. "That is not what I mean."

Yondaime's shoulders slumped. He looked at Mafumi like a child who had been caught doing something not strictly by the rules.

"There are emotional responsibilities –"

"No," Yondaime protested.

" – that a family must uphold together –"

"No!" Yondaime clenched his fists.

Mafumi stopped.

"No," Yondaime said more quietly. "My father hurt me like that and I am never, never doing that to my children."

"How old were you when your father made you an emotionally responsible member of the household?" Mafumi asked.

"Six," Yondaime said.

Mafumi shook her head. "Too young."

"But I was already in school –"

"Too young," Mafumi repeated. "An emotional responsibility is not the same as helping to lift a heavy object. An emotional responsibility is knowledge about the emotions of others in your family, and helping each other seek stress relief. This is a responsibility that comes with age and development, not with culturally mandated landmarks in maturity. It is inappropriate to ask someone under the age fourteen to carry an emotional burden. During one's puberty years, up through the age of fourteen, one is going through the process of individuation. This means splitting off from the parent consciousness and being aware of one's own identity. Around the age of fourteen or fifteen, a healthy teenager has a clear enough idea of their separate identity from their parents and siblings to be able to help with emotional responsibilities without being in danger of their individuality being suppressed by ordinary tasks."

"Could you speak plainly?" Yondaime asked dryly.

Mafumi took a deep breath and nodded. She looked slightly embarrassed. "An ordinary task is asking how someone's day went, understanding the response on an emotional level, and knowing some kind of appropriate response of one's own. For instance, 'How did your day go?' 'Not well.' 'I'm sorry. Would you like to go to the garden for a while?'" She gestured. "In this example, the person's stress relief strategy is their garden. So that is what their family member in this scenario offered: a gentle reminder that their coping mechanism is open to them."

Kankuro nodded. "I could do that."

"Good." Mafumi smiled at him. She turned her gaze to Yondaime. "Now, what is something you enjoy doing that brings you stress relief?"

"Nothing," Yondaime said.

Mafumi looked incredulous.

Kankuro narrowed his eyes at his father. "What he means is, the only thing he does to relieve stress is drink, and he doesn't think that is what you mean."

"In moderation, having a drink is a healthy way to unwind," Mafumi said. "Provided that is not all you do."

Yondaime shifted, distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh," Mafumi said. She waggled her pen between her fingers and looked at him speculatively. "That is a problem."

Kankuro nodded. "That's why he didn't want to tell you."

Yondaime's cheeks colored.

"Drinking is not a hobby," Mafumi declared. "What I had in mind when I asked you about stress relief was a hobby. Or a place you go to in order to be alone and think, where you know you have privacy."

"I don't have either of those," Yondaime said. "The closest thing I have is my bedroom at home. Sometimes, I go there…but I feel guilty because then I'm not being accessible to my children."

"You can't always be accessible to your children," Mafumi pointed out. "You need some time to yourself. It's a common misconception for parents to have, that they aren't allowed to have time to themselves. Now that your children are teenagers, especially, you should be able to spend some time separate from them without worrying that something horrible is going to happen the moment you aren't there."

"Something horrible might happen when I'm not there," Yondaime said. "I face that fear all the time. Especially when I have to send them outside the village for a mission."

Mafumi pressed her lips together and nodded. "I appreciate that. But when everyone is home, and winding down for the day…you deserve some time to yourself."

"So, I need time to myself, but I need to build a social life?" Yondaime asked.

"It's a balance," Mafumi said. "All life is a balance. And it sounds like right now, the only balance you have is that everything is about work or your children."

Yondaime colored again.

"Well, we'll find something for you to do," Mafumi said. "What was something you used to do as a child to relieve stress?"

"I wrote," Yondaime said reluctantly.

Mafumi gave him a reassuring smile. "What did you write?"

"Poetry," Yondaime said, more reluctantly than before. He looked at her warily.

"Then write poetry again," Mafumi said simply.

"But I won't be any good at it," Yondaime protested. "I was never any good. I understood: I am a shinobi, not a poet. I am a miserable poet. No one should be subjected to the things that I write."

"Then don't show anybody," Mafumi said.

Yondaime stared at her.

Mafumi sighed gently and gave him a sad smile. "Kazekage-sama, the point is to relieve your stress. Not to be a poet. Not all things can be professions. If you feel uncomfortable with letting anyone view your poetry, then keep it private. Keep a journal; that way you have a book that is easy to keep track of."

"A journal," Yondaime said blankly.

Kankuro was very worried at this point about the lack of privacy his father must have had as a child. There was no other reason why his father should find this advice incomprehensible. _He's never had any privacy before. His father was always breathing down his neck. His mother too, maybe. He never had anything to himself or any space, or even any room to change his name. He's always been under lock and key. And now he has freedom…but he doesn't know what to do with it. He still feels crushed. Trapped. _

"Yes," Mafumi said. "That is my recommendation."

"Alright…" Yondaime looked at her uncertainly.

"Unfortunately, because you only scheduled a one hour appointment, we are almost out of time," Mafumi said. "In the last fifteen minutes, I would like to discuss with you what your treatment goals are, whether or not you feel comfortable with taking medication to ease your symptoms, and how often you want to meet."

Yondaime nodded. "That sounds reasonable."

"You mentioned wanting to be a better father," Mafumi said. "Is that one of your treatment goals?"

"Definitely," Yondaime said, back on surer ground. "I want to turn my life around for my children. I want to be a better father. If I am a better father, then I will be able to be there for my children and bring this family together."

"What about your physical symptoms?" Mafumi asked. "Would you like to sleep more restfully, have more energy, and enjoy a greater level of relaxation at home?"

"I would be a fool to say no to any of that," Yondaime said wryly.

Kankuro had to smile.

Mafumi smiled as well. She nodded. "You must get something out of it for yourself. This issue affects your health."

"I would also like…to be happy," Yondaime said. He studied Mafumi's face, as if uncertain of her reaction would be.

"That is a very good goal," Mafumi said gently.

Yondaime relaxed.

Kankuro squeezed his father's hand again, leaning against the side of the chair.

"Now, let us discussion medication." Mafumi gestured with her pen. "Is medication an option you're willing to pursue?"

"What are the benefits?" Yondaime asked.

"Short-term relief for your symptoms," Mafumi said. "Medication is not a permanent fix, but it is often recommended for those who need a quick start in the direction of getting healthier. Medication can help manage your depression, anxiety, and insomnia."

"How?" Yondaime asked. "How does it work?"

"Medication affects the brain," Mafumi said. "Your brain is full of receptors. These receptors communicate with chemicals. Medication is a chemical; it will communicate primitive signals to your brain: such as, don't worry, be happy, everything is okay. Medication does this by boosting your body's production of chemicals that produce feelings of happiness and relaxation."

"So…I'd be drugged," Yondaime said.

Kankuro winced. _Apparently, this isn't going to go well._

"Everything is not happy and wonderful," Yondaime said. "But your medications would be encouraging my brain to react as if everything is."

"Yes," Mafumi said. She shrugged. "Medication brings many people relief this way. Waiting for treatment to be finished to feel relief is like fasting for several months before allowing oneself to eat. Depression treatments take at least two months. Sometimes, treatment takes one to two years. Sometimes, many years. It depends on the causes of your depression and whether or not they will resolve."

"So it might be fake happiness or nothing," Yondaime said.

"No," Mafumi said gently. "There will always be something, Yondaime-sama. You may rest assured of that. Your life will get better. But there is a difference between your life getting better and your subjective experience. You will have highs and lows. Medication helps keep you in the middle. A happy medium, as the expression goes."

Kankuro glanced at his father.

Yondaime didn't seem any more encouraged. "I would rather solve my problems the old-fashioned way. Thank you."

Mafumi nodded. "I cannot make you take medication. Your treatment is your choice. If you wish to take medication at some point in the future, I will refer you to one of our psychiatrists. Please rest assured that if you change your mind, I will not count it as a victory on my part."

Yondaime looked startled, then thoughtful. He nodded slowly. "Alright."

Kankuro saw that Mafumi was learning to read his father already. He gave her a small smile.

Mafumi acknowledged his smile with a small smile of her own. She turned her attention back to his father. "Yondaime-sama, how often would you like to meet?"

"What are the options?" Yondaime asked.

"It's really variable," Mafumi said gently. "I meet with some of my clients as often as every other day. This is in severe situations, where they have no family left, no means of support except to come here. I also meet with clients as infrequently as every two months."

"What do you suggest?" Yondaime asked.

"I would suggest either two one-hour sessions a week, or one two-hour session a week," Mafumi said. "Either way, two hours a week is a good starting point for someone in your place. Your support system is weak, and your coping mechanisms are nonexistent."

"Blunt, but fair," Yondaime said, nodding. "Alright. I'll meet with you once a week for two hours. How is that?"

"Fine," Mafumi said. She wrote something down on the assessment form. Then she reread, nodding to herself. Finally, she looked up. "Alright." She stood and bowed. "If you will follow me back to the waiting room, we will conclude this appointment. Unless you have any questions or concerns you would like me to address?"

"What is my 'homework'?" Yondaime asked with a smile.

Mafumi chuckled. "Your homework, Kazekage-sama, is to pick up one or more hobbies, and make time for them every day. Half an hour to begin with. At least half an hour needs to be spent on stress relief, if you can't manage anything else."

Yondaime bowed graciously. "I will consider that."

Kankuro gave his father a look. "You mean you'll do it. Or else I'll beat you up."

His father turned to him, startled, and then let out a laugh. "Will you, now?"

Kankuro nodded, not backing down. He gave his father a small smile. "I absolutely will. You'll find yourself tied to your bed with a journal in your hand."

"And something to write with, I hope," Yondaime retorted, his eyes sparkling.

Kankuro grinned. "Of course." He bowed.

His father snorted, and then turned to Mafumi. "I think we're done."

"Alright." Mafumi bowed and led them out of her office, back to the waiting room. She bade them goodbye and took in another patient; a woman with light hair and a worried face.

Kankuro opened the door out to the hallway for his father, and then accompanied his father down the hall and out of the building.

Once they were on the street, his father murmured, "I must get back to work. I will see you later."

"Count on it," Kankuro said.

His father turned way.

Kankuro caught his arm and hugged him.

His father froze, startled, and then hugged Kankuro back.

Kankuro felt better. "Love you, Dad. I'll be back at five o'clock to make sure you're doing what you're supposed to."

His father chuckled and stroked the back of Kankuro's neck fondly. "I see. I shall be sure to behave, then." Then he released his son. His gaze darted down the street. For the moment, they were alone. "I love you, too," he mumbled quickly, as if afraid to be caught. Then he gave Kankuro a rueful smile and bowed. "Well, I'm off."

Kankuro nodded.

His father walked down the street in the direction of the Kazekage Complex.

Kankuro waved goodbye to his father, blushing bright red and hoping his father didn't notice that. The touch to the back of his neck was all it took for his body to light up like a paper lantern.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Kankuro gave his father room for a few days. He figured it was best. After all, the lack of privacy his father had as a child worried him, and he wanted his father to feel comfortable with following Mafumi's advice.

On Saturday, after dinner, Kankuro finished getting ready for bed and padded down the hall to his father's room. He knocked gently. "Dad?"

"Hm?" his father responded.

Kankuro chuckled at the distracted call. "Just checking in on you. Good night."

"No, come in," his father said, startled.

Kankuro hesitated with his hand on the doorknob for a moment, then nodded. "Okay." He opened the door, stepping in and shutting it behind him.

His father's room was aglow with golden light. Kankuro saw that his father had retrieved the matching lamp that belonged on his mother's side of the bed and set it up on the previously forbidden nightstand that sat on his mother's side. He's reclaimed it. Kankuro stared blankly at this unexpected show of progress before taking in his father.

His father sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, wearing a maroon yukata made of thin material for sleeping in.

"Have you written in your journal?" Kankuro asked.

"Yes," his father said vaguely.

"Good." Kankuro smiled. "I'm just making sure you're staying on track."

Yondaime nodded.

"And I know you wouldn't lie to me, because then I'd have to steal your journal and find out," Kankuro teased.

"God, no," Yondaime said. He looked honestly horrified. "Everything that's come out so far has been abominable. I am out of practice even for me. I would die of shame if you were to read even a word of it."

"I respect your privacy," Kankuro said. He furrowed his brow, concerned. "But I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is."

"Hmph." His father sniffed. "It's terrible. The worst kind of tripe. I'm only glad it is private."

Kankuro decided to let it go. He knew he wasn't going to change his father's mind. "Well…that's the whole point of it." He smiled encouragingly. "Privacy. This is something you're doing for you."

His father smiled back at him. "Yes." He bowed his head, and then nodded. "I must admit it feels good. I wasn't expecting that."

Kankuro crossed the room to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. "Yeah, well, I knew that." He grinned. "I write all the time. Writing is awesome. It takes your mind off things. It can also tell you things you didn't know you knew." He nodded.

"Kankuro…" His father's smile faded, and he looked worried instead. "We're seeing Yuna-san again on Monday."

"Yeah…?" Kankuro wasn't sure why his father looked worried. "Okay. I'll be there. Obviously."

Yondaime nodded slowly. "So we'll both face our feelings."

"Has to happen," Kankuro said. He wondered suddenly if his father would back out. Now, that wasn't a charitable thought. Kankuro squished it.

"You're right." His father took a deep breath. "Of course."

"Yes, I'm always right," Kankuro teased, unable to help himself. His father had set it up too well.

Yondaime flushed and frowned at him.

Kankuro thought that was adorable. "Well, what are you afraid will happen on Monday? Maybe it's best we discuss that."

"I'm afraid that Yuna-san will tell us that physical touching is wrong in light of your feelings," Yondaime said without hesitation. The words came out in a rush.

"Oh." Kankuro considered that. "Well…" He reached out and squeezed his father's forearm. "She can tell us that, but that doesn't mean we have to stop."

Yondaime wavered, then slid off the bed and stood up. He looked away, resting a hand on his neck, his thumb resting on his chin. His other hand rested on his hip.

Kankuro took this in. He'd only seen his father look this way a few times. One of them was when his father had told him and Temari Gaara would be living with them from now on. It was not a good posture.

He slid off the bed and stood himself, joining his father at his father's side. "Well, if this is our last night together, or second-to-last, or whatever, then I want a kiss before it's too late." He hoped that would distract his father from whatever thoughts were going on behind that morose face.

His father turned to him, startled, and let out a laugh. "Kankuro…you don't stop, do you?"

Kankuro grinned and laughed, too. "No."

Yondaime snorted and shook his head, smiling. "You are just like me. Or Karura. You are always…"

"Pushing?" Kankuro suggested, tilting his head.

"That's a good word for it," his father agreed humorously, crossing his arms.

"Does that mean I get a kiss?" Kankuro put on a hopeful look.

His father snorted again, his eyes glimmering on the verge of laughter. "No!"

Kankuro knew he had successfully distracted his father. Now all he needed to do was draw his father into a debate and keep his father's attention, until his father forgot whatever troubling thoughts had been plaguing him.

"What harm can one kiss do?" Kankuro asked reasonably. "In some cultures, family members kiss each other just to say hello. Tanigakure is like that. Did you know that? They're very physically affectionate."

"Is that research I hear?" Yondaime asked wryly.

Kankuro grinned. "Well…yeah." He shrugged. "I wanna know how other cultures perceive love. I mean, no culture is universally right, right? It's all relative. Like in the olden times, Daimyo and their families were all incestuous."

"And that makes it right? Because the Daimyo did it?" Yondaime shook his head.

"Well, it doesn't make it wrong," Kankuro retorted.

Yondaime passed a hand over his face, looking exasperated. "Kankuro…the Daimyo are a bad example. They did what they did for power. That is precisely the wrong reason to start a relationship with someone."

Okay, now it was getting serious. Kankuro grimaced and struggled to redirect. "Dad, it's just one kiss."

"Is it wrong that I'm tempted?" Yondaime whispered.

The question set Kankuro back on his heels. "You're tempted?"

He gave his son a tortured look. "I'm very tempted." He shook his head, turning away. "I can't conceive of how…" He clenched his hands at his sides. "…how I could…want to do such a thing to another human being, after what I –" He glanced at Kankuro sharply. "Oh, Kankuro." Agony deepened the lines around his eyes. "I should never have – You don't know my father. He –" He turned around to face Kankuro, pale and shaking. His eyes darkened. "I can't. I can't even consider what I am about to do to you. Run away."

_I am not running away_. Kankuro crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his father, holding his father securely. "Whatever your father did to you has nothing to do with how I feel about you. Or how you feel about me. This is a different thing entirely."

"You don't want it," Yondaime exclaimed.

"Yes, I do." Kankuro took his father's face in both hands and gently held Yondaime still.

His father's panicked eyes met his. "No, you don't! You're confused. You don't want it!"

"Yes, I do!" Kankuro kissed his father tenderly, but firmly, commanding his father's attention.

His father flinched, and then kissed back with gentle desperation, winding his arms tightly around Kankuro and clinging.

Kankuro wrapped his arms around his father more tightly in response, cradling his father against his chest. _Yes. Yes. Yes! _His father kissing him back felt just as good as he always imagined it would.

"Dad," he moaned.

His father moaned in response, wordless, deep.

Heat coursed through Kankuro and settled in his lower regions, made his cheeks flame. His father's lips somehow elusively plucked at his, knowing just how to move. Kankuro did his best to keep up. He stroked the back of his father's neck, the only way he could communicate the fierce rush of his feelings.

His father licked his lips, tracing them, and then sucked on his lower lip.

Lights exploded behind Kankuro's eyes. He hadn't known such a thing was even possible. He let out a loud moan and let his head fall back.

His father ended the kiss, gently releasing Kankuro's lower lip.

They were both panting.

"Son…" Yondaime's voice was deep, husky from kissing.

Kankuro had to wait for his vision to clear before he looked at his father. He stroked his father's cheek wordlessly.

"Is that what you wanted?" His father actually looked uncertain, after all of that.

Kankuro couldn't help but laugh. "Yes!"

Yondaime clung to him, nestling his head against Kankuro's shoulder. "Oh, good." He let out a sigh of relief.

Kankuro grinned and petted his father's head. "You have nothing to worry about. You are super sexy." Kankuro felt his father's slender body heat up by about ten degrees. "Is that a full body blush?"

"Can't help it," his father mumbled in protest.

Kankuro cupped his father's heated cheek and gently pulled back enough to examine his father's face. Bright red. He chuckled. "It's cute."

"Nn." His father pouted.

"It is," Kankuro insisted. He gathered his father against him and walked to the bed, pulling his father into it and wrapping and covers around them. "Now that that's over with, and it's established that we both really do like each other, I want some snuggles." He settled back against the headboard, supported with a pillow, and let his father curl up to him any way his father pleased.

His father chose to sit between Kankuro's legs and rest his head on Kankuro's chest and wrapping both arms around his son's waist. His legs draped over Kankuro's thigh, dangling out straight.

Kankuro wrapped his arms around his father and held his father happily. He could not have picked a more intimate position if he'd tried. He kissed his father's temple. "You know, in a few years I'm going to be as tall as you."

His father was still blushing. "I know."

Kankuro squeezed him. "Then I'll get to take care of you properly."

His father snuggled against him.

Kankuro trailed his fingers down his father's back. Part of him was euphoric, floating somewhere around the ceiling looking down. Another part of him was trying to figure out what had happened. And how. He knew his grandfather was part of it. _If Grandfather hadn't been so horrible, maybe Tousan would have trusted me from the start. And trusted himself. _

"Is Grandfather why you wouldn't come forward?" Kankuro asked.

Yondaime whimpered and shifted against him.

That response made Kankuro sad. "We have to talk about it. Sometime. If you don't want to talk about it Monday…we'll have to talk about it ourselves."

His father's arms tightened around his waist so much that Kankuro could hardly breathe.

"I like Yuna-san," Kankuro said softly. "And we still need her help. You don't want to stop therapy now, do you? We just got started."

"Father hurt me." His voice was so choked Kankuro could barely understand him. "In so many ways. I don't want to talk about it. With anybody."

"But you have to," Kankuro said. He tried to get a peek of his father's face.

His father buried his face against Kankuro's shoulder.

"You can't keep it all to yourself," Kankuro said. "It's hurting you. He may be dead, but his memories aren't. So you're still hurting."

"Kankuro…" Kankuro couldn't tell if that was a laugh or a sob. "How right you are. How right you are…The memories don't die. No matter what I do."

"Is that why you drink?" Kankuro asked.

"Sometimes."

"You know you can come talk to me, instead of drinking." Kankuro was having a harder time fighting his horrible assumptions about what had happened. Especially since his father had panicked and blurted out that Kankuro didn't know what his grandfather had done.

"You shouldn't…know."

"Why not?" Kankuro asked.

"Because…" His father shifted, loosening his grip, and looked up at Kankuro warily. "It's terrible."

"But that's why I should know," Kankuro pointed out. "So that I can help you carry the burden. If something really horrible happened to me, I'd tell you. I'd tell you in a heartbeat."

"But I'm your father," Yondaime said. "You're supposed to."

"And I'm your support," Kankuro said, firmly. "So you're supposed to confide in me as well."

"Well…if you really want to know." His father straightened and took a deep breath. His eyes were dark and troubled, smoldering with old pain.

Kankuro watched his father warily and nodded.

"It's quite a story," Yondaime said. He gazed across the room, at the wall.

Kankuro stroked his father's back slowly. "Start whenever you're ready. I'm listening."

For a few moments, the room was silent. Yondaime studied the shadows on the walls, cast by the golden glow of the bedside lamps.

Kankuro held his breath.

His father began. "I was a sickly boy…"


	12. Chapter 12

**Warning: Disturbing dialogue.  
**

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Kyou panted. "Are we done for the day?" He was flushed, sweaty, and exhausted, his heart beating fast and steady.

His sensei hesitated, then gave a nod.

Kyou collapsed to the ground in relief. "I did it…"

"You're getting stronger," his sensei said. He crouched, calmly watching Kyou recover. "You've gotten much stronger in the past few months."

Kyou would never tell his sensei that, but it was because he was terrified of being beaten by his father. After the first time, when his father broke his arm, Kyou dreaded evenings and resolved to defend himself better. If he just got better at taijutsu, then his father wouldn't be able to push him around so much. Kyou refused to think about the fact that with magnetism release, his father could use his hematite sand. His father would never turn his kekkai genkai against his own son, would he?

Things like that just didn't happen. His father was angry sometimes, not crazy. And if he just lasted long enough, his father would run out of anger, and he wouldn't be hurt at the end.

Kyou panted against the barren ground, recovering his strength. "Sensei…do you think someday I'll be as strong as you?"

"If you keep working this hard? I guarantee it," his sensei said. He laid a gentle hand on Kyou's back. "You've all the advantages in the world. Your bloodline limit is powerful, and you have large chakra reserves. My only concern in the beginning was your body, and you have overcome that."

Kyou nodded. "Getting my mom to change my diet to include more red meat helped, Sensei. I appreciate your talk with her." In the beginning, when he'd been assigned a sensei to train him after school to help him keep up, he'd been fatigued all the time. His sensei suggested it was anemia. Kyou had been scared, but all it turned out to mean was that he had an iron deficiency and needed to make up for it in order to survive endurance training.

"No problem," his sensei said. "Wouldn't want a promising student to die."

Kyou smiled weakly. He wished he could tell his sensei that he had nightmares about his father killing him, sometimes. But he couldn't. That would be disloyal. And terrible of him, since he knew his father wouldn't really kill him. _All fathers have tempers, don't they? I bet everyone's fathers get mad sometimes. _

Still, he had to admit, he didn't want to go home.

He would much rather stay collapsed behind the school, at the training grounds. Training ground 3 was perfect for practicing taijutsu. It was a wide, flat expanse of hard ground, as perfect as a paved courtyard. The towering building of the ninja academy was on one side. Around them was the high wall separating the school from the street. The school was heavily protected from the wind, and from possible attack. It wouldn't do to leave one's children unprotected.

Kyou knew that here at least, people cared if he got hurt.

Here, he mattered.

Kyou picked himself up off the ground and found his center of balance.

His sensei straightened, watching him with calm stoicism and a hint of a smile.

Kyou bowed. "Thank you for the lesson, Basa-sensei."

The man allowed himself a small sign of affection. He rested his large, warm hand on Kyou's head. "Any time, Kyou-kun."

Kyou wished he could run away and join Basa's family. The Akagizume clan were all strong, protective people with a family calling to be teachers. Of course, they weren't really named Akagizume. They were called that because they had two large red marks on either side of their face, tattoos on their cheeks that looked a little like two claw marks. Thus 'Akagizume': 'Aka' for red, and 'kagizume' for claw. In spite of the rules about not using one's traditional clan name, most families chose a sort of clan nickname, in addition to saving the original history of their clan in a deeply cherished family scroll.

That was why Kyou's family was known as the Sabaku clan. Since the reign of Niidaime Kazekage, his family had distinguished themselves by their jutsu: a rare kekkai genkai that allowed them to command any material with even the slightest trace of magnetic properties in it. This ability extended to materials that responded to electrical currents well. Kyou had heard that this meant his kekkai genkai was a unique manipulation of earth release and lightning release. He wouldn't take advanced nature transformation release classes until his last year of school, though.

And to his father's shame, he was less than a natural at their kekkai genkai. All he could do was make a smoke-like curl of particles dance for thirty seconds. He couldn't even handle something that wasn't ferromagnetic yet. Ferromagnetic metals were the materials that reacted the most easily to their magnetism release. In other words, a child's training toy. And Kyou still couldn't manage to attack or defend, even with pure iron sand.

Kyou realized he'd stalled his sensei enough. He gave Basa a sad smile. "Good evening, Basa-sensei. I must return home now. Kaasan will be making dinner, and Otousama will be angry if I am late." Yes, focusing on his need to be on time motivated him, when thinking about going home didn't.

Basa bowed. "As you wish. I will see you in the morning, Kyou-kun."

"Yes," Kyou agreed. It was an implicit promise to stay alive until the morning. Not that his sensei knew that.

**xXx**

When he arrived home, Kyou felt a storm in the air. As the inheritor of the magnetism release, he sometimes felt weather changes. A sand storm was going to hit, sometime between now and tomorrow morning. He could feel the tension, the way the air danced.

He shook himself, glancing at the sky – clear for now, how deceptive that was – and pushed open his front door. "I'm home," Kyou called, as per tradition. He slipped off his sandals and beat out his light gray yukata with his hands, trying to get rid of any excess sand and grit. A few puffs came off, courtesy of lying down on the training ground.

When he walked into the kitchen, Kyou jerked to a halt. A nasty surprise had waited for him: his mother was not home, but his father was. A reversal. No time to worry about what his father would say at dinner, then.

His father wasn't a tall man, exactly, but he was there. He had a presence like a magnet. His energy crackled. Not all magnetism release users felt the same way as his Otousama did. He had defined cheekbones and a hard jaw, a fierce hawk nose and dark, dark eyes. His hair was short and salt and pepper, combed back neatly. His mustache was jet black, like his hair had once been. He wore plain clothes; currently the whites and sand colors of standard issue jonin uniform, without the flak jacket.

"Otousama," Kyou said. "Good evening."

His father nodded. "Good evening, son."

Kyou took his place at the kitchen table and folded his hands, like he would if his mother were here. She always preferred to have him sitting down instead of roaming through the house while she made dinner. "How was your day, Otousama?" He gave his father a smile to mask his uneasiness. He wanted there to be some semblance of routine, at least. Unforeseen situations scared him.

"Kyou, will you come help me out in the bedroom?" his father asked.

Kyou got up from the table nervously. "Yes, Otousama…" He couldn't imagine how his father needed help in the bedroom. It didn't matter. The request for help was not a request.

He followed his father into his parents' bedroom.

"Where is Kaasan?" Kyou asked.

"She's not here right now," his father said vaguely.

Kyou knew that was going to be the only answer he got. If he pushed, his father would just become irritated with him. He was allowed to know what his father decided he ought to know. Everything else was off limits.

He looked around the room. Everything was as it should be. To the left of the door, there was a closet. In front of him, headboard pushed against the wall, was his parents' bed. It was neatly made, the covers tucked in. The floor was vacuumed and spotless. All the furniture was in place, the walls were clean, the window was covered with blinds as usual.

Kyou turned to his father. "What do you need my help with, Otousama?" Maybe it was something less obvious. Like looking under the bed for something. Kyou knew that neat beds did not always mean the space under the bed was as clean. He'd had to search under his bed for things all the time and found the floor dusty and littered with little trinkets, like loose change and forgotten toys. Not that he had many toys, but he did have simple ones, like balls.

"Your mother stopped letting me put it on," his father said. Or, that's what Kyou thought his father had said.

Kyou stared at his father for a moment, then glanced away, his lips silently moving. His father had used the word 'hameru'. That meant to put something in, or put something on, like a glove. Sometimes it meant to put someone in a spot, like categorizing them. And sometimes, it also meant to set someone up, like for an ambush. In school, the teachers had used the word 'hameru' a lot for that; talking about how to get an opponent where you wanted them.

He didn't think his father could mean that his mother stopped letting him ambush her. That didn't make sense.

There was no help for it; he would have to ask a question, even though questions were dangerous.

"Mother stopped letting you wear something?" Kyou asked timidly.

His father gave him a look. "No, you stupid boy."

Kyou inwardly cringed at the criticism. "I don't understand."

"Haven't you ever heard of fucking?" his father demanded.

Kyou froze. He felt his whole body get hot. His ears burned, and his pulse pounded. "That's a bad word," he whispered, shocked.

"No shit." His father looked at him with disgust. "Okay, genius, did you get it this time or not?"

"No," Kyou whispered. His mind had gone blank. He couldn't understand what was going on. Why had his father told him to help in the bedroom? What was he supposed to do?

"Oh, for god's sake." His father grabbed his arm and threw him onto the bed. "Take your clothes off."

"What?" Kyou whispered, terrified. He cringed, curling into a ball. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to fuck you senseless before your mother gets back from buying groceries," his father said matter-of-factly. It was as if…they'd had this conversation before, or as if it was something his father ought to say, or…

Kyou realized he was shaking, and very close to wetting himself. "Seven-year-olds don't know how to fuck." He couldn't raise his voice above a whisper, and he knew better, he knew better than to argue, but this was an impossibility. He wanted to throw up. He knew 'fucking' was an adult thing people did, but he didn't know how, or why. Only that there were vulgar jokes about it.

"You don't need to know how to do anything." His father's eyes were cold. "I'm the one who's doing the work. You just do what you were born doing."

Kyou couldn't move, couldn't speak. Couldn't feel. Even his lips were numb.

**xXx**

"…and that was the first time," Yondaime finished. He looked remarkably calm for someone who'd just recounted a story like that.

Kankuro could hardly believe his father could sit here in his lap and tell him that, without a single tear. _But this is what abused people look like. When they recount, they go to a different place in their heads, and…wait until it's safe to come out again._ Kankuro had read about this a lot. Purposeful detachment. What his father displayed was a version of the stoicism they were all taught in school. _'Take your mind away, to a calm place. Allow yourself to follow your orders completely and thoroughly.'_ That was almost verbatim a lesson Kankuro had learned at the Academy.

"I wanted my mother to return home from the grocery shopping, but she never did," Yondaime said. "By the time she returned, my father was done, and had scrubbed me clean in a hot shower." He raised an eyebrow, frowning to himself. "I threw up all over the bed, though. He had to explain that away as me being sick. Mother never asked what I was doing in their room. I always wondered if she knew. I wasn't allowed in their bedroom normally."

_The first time?_ Those words pounded in Kankuro's skull. He felt like throwing up, himself. "Dad?" Kankuro asked timidly.

"Yes?" His father looked at him calmly and then reached up, gently stroking Kankuro's cheek.

"How…How many times?" Kankuro wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he would always wonder if he didn't just ask.

"I'm not sure," Yondaime admitted. "It all kind of blurs together. I know that it happened throughout the years. Father would ask Mother to do grocery shopping after he got home from work, and I would be left alone with him, and it would happen again." His eyes glimmered with a combination of fear and unshed tears. The numb stoicism cracked and fell away, leaving him obviously hurting.

Kankuro held his father, trying to figure out what to say. "After Mom…did it stop?"

"Only because Karura made sure my schedule and my father's never overlapped," Yondaime said. "Her parents helped a lot with that, inviting me over for family dinners or to play games. Yashamaru pitched in, too, finding extra things for me to do so I was never alone."

"Why didn't you just…confront him?" Kankuro asked.

"Karura wanted to, but I told her…" Yondaime took a deep breath. "A long time ago my father threatened to kill my mother if I ever told anyone, and I…I knew that…if I made a move, to secure Mother's safety, that…he would know what I was trying to do, and…" He started shaking.

"I understand," Kankuro said immediately, stopping him. Kankuro hugged his father tightly. _You weren't capable of standing up to him. You just weren't. Even in your own head. _

Yondaime laid his head against Kankuro's chest, lying still but not relaxed. Kankuro could feel how tense his father was.

"Tousan," Kankuro whispered. He stroked his father's back and kissed the top of his father's head, though it felt strange to do that to a grown man. "I love you. We're going to be okay."

His father relaxed, and let out a shuddering sigh. "I suppose so. I suppose…we're okay since…he's gone…" He squeezed Kankuro and looked up, at his son's face. "I love you, too. So you still love me, even after…"

"It's a lie," Kankuro said. "It's a lie that anyone could ever make you less desirable by hurting you."

Yondaime closed his eyes and nodded. A single tear welled up and ran down his cheek slowly. "That's what your mother said. A long time ago."

"It's true," Kankuro declared. Then he paused, horrified. "What about after Mom died?"

Yondaime let out a humorless laugh. "After your mother died…Yashamaru and their parents kept up the good fight, keeping me as safe as possible…Yashamaru even took Gaara so I wouldn't be isolated alone in the house with a baby to take care of. He took care of Gaara. And he never once asked for any compensation, never made a single complaint…he was wonderful."

"But then…Yashamaru died, and Gaara came to live with us," Kankuro said quietly.

Yondaime nodded. "That's right."

"And you were more vulnerable," Kankuro said.

"Right again," his father said.

"So your father started coming around," Kankuro said.

"He scented blood," Yondaime said bitterly. "The blood was in the water as soon as Karura died, but he was very careful to appear the solicitous father, the grieving father-in-law. He stopped by several times when I was at her parents' house to try to talk to me, but they wouldn't let him have me. They wouldn't let him speak to me alone. Smart people. Your maternal grandparents were smart, good people."

"I know," Kankuro said, nodding. He'd loved his mother's parents. They had always been kind and understanding. And his maternal grandfather had been a puppet master. Between him and Chiyo, Kankuro had learned a lot. Enough to graduate in the top of his class, ahead of the other puppet masters.

Yondaime hugged Kankuro. "I was aware that I was in danger, technically, but I thought…well…that he would move on. I thought if I stayed out of his house, out of my parents' way…"

"Yeah," Kankuro said softly. "That's what I would have thought, too."

"But he didn't," Yondaime said. "He came back. Asking if he could help, asking how my financial situation was. When he…when he came into my office, at work, I knew it was over. He was done waiting. He…" Yondaime swallowed. "I always suspected he engineered the idea of testing Gaara."

"Testing Gaara," Kankuro said blankly. "You mentioned something about that before. Yashamaru died giving Gaara a test?"

Yondaime shuddered.

Kankuro rocked him gently back and forth, rubbing his back. "It's okay. I don't hate you. I would never stop loving you, no matter what you told me."

His father took a deep breath. Tears shone in his eyes. "I ordered…Yashamaru to tell Gaara…tell Gaara…his mother was gone. That Karura was not in the sand, like we had been telling him. That…that…that was just a lie, and we told him that because we felt sorry for him, but that he had to be an adult now, he had to accept that there was no mother in his sand. That 'Mother' was gone." Yondaime looked sick to his stomach.

"Wait, what?" Kankuro was confused. "How was this a test?" _Not to mention…you were telling him that Mom lived in his sand? That's kind of messed up. _He set that aside for now.

Yondaime took a deep breath. He was deathly pale. "The theory was…was that Gaara could be cleared as a security risk if he…if he accepted reality, the reality that the rest of us lived in, that his mother was gone, and…he had to learn to live for himself instead of trying constantly to communicate with his mother. Or…or get her attention, or seek her approval to the exclusion of bonding with others. Because she was gone."

Kankuro nodded slowly. "That kind of makes sense…"

"Except that Gaara was hated by the villagers, and his only coping mechanism was believing in a mother's love," Yondaime said sharply. "An active, aware, loving mother constantly with him. We took that away from him, and he snapped. He killed Yashamaru – presumably for lying to him about Karura being in his sand – and he hates me. For the same reason. He hates that I would lie. And he'll never trust me again."

Kankuro knew now. He understood why his father clung to that guilt so hard. But he couldn't do anything about that. He couldn't make his father let go. All he could do was redirect. "You were telling me about your father." He stroked his father's back gently.

Yondaime stared at Kankuro for a moment, blankly. Then he shook his head, and some of the hunted, desperate shame faded from his eyes. "I…ah…" He swallowed. "Received a threat. From my father. About how ill my mother was. How…much attention and care she needed. And. He asked me if I wouldn't stop by and help her. I said no. I didn't have time. He…called me names. Yelled at me. But he didn't…strike me. He just left my office. And he…disappeared, for a few months. Off my radar."

"And then?" Kankuro prompted gently.

"He showed up at the house," Yondaime said. His voice was husky, as if he were holding back unshed tears. "Our house. I…told him to go away, he…came in. Asked about you. Temari. Gaara. I told him you three would never know him. That was the way Karura wanted it. He…struck me, and he said…if I wanted it to stay that way, I'd…" He shook his head, pressing his lips together.

Kankuro stroked his father's cheek. "So he did hurt you."

Yondaime stared across the room, at the wall. He didn't answer.

Kankuro waited.

"I don't know why he didn't…leave," Yondaime said. "Pedophiles, they…They're not like that. They don't follow…a person into adulthood. They don't…keep hurting the same child, over and over, even though he's a grown man. They don't. They don't do that. They don't –" His hands were clenched tightly, balled up and resting against his stomach.

Kankuro saw his father's knuckles turn white and hurriedly took his father's hands, gently prying his father's fingers apart, uncurling them.

His father gave him a startled look, then looked down at their joined hands. Yondaime was silent for a while. His shoulders slumped, and he rested against Kankuro.

Kankuro stroked his father's hands.

"He never left," Yondaime whispered. "He died last year. That was the first time. The first time he ever left." He closed his eyes and rested his head against Kankuro's shoulder.

Kankuro knew his father had to be exhausted; after all, it was after both their bedtimes, and his father had told Mafumi that he wasn't sleeping restfully. "Dad…do you want to go to sleep now?"

His father made a small sound. It almost sounded like a chuckle. "How can I ever sleep now? How can I ever sleep again? The nightmares…"

"You can go to sleep now because you are safe," Kankuro said. "I am here, and he isn't. And he can't come back. He's dead."

"He's not dead, in my head." His father spoke in a low voice, tired and ashamed.

Kankuro hugged his father tightly. "We have to talk to Yuna-san and Mafumi-san about medication. You can't live like this. You have to have a good night's sleep. You have to be able to rest. No more putting yourself through months of agony, Tousan. You're going to get help."

Instead of arguing, his father just nodded and clung to him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

After hours of rocking his father, of snuggling and stroking his father's head, Kankuro watched his father fall asleep. He waited, watching his father's slackened face, listening to the even breathing. Finally, he was satisfied that his father's sleep was genuine. He fell asleep as well.

In the morning, Kankuro found his father snuggled up tightly to him, clinging. He didn't know if his father was awake or not. Looking at his father's face, Kankuro knew his father's teeth were clenched. "Dad…" He stroked his father's richly auburn hair gently.

His father let out a moan.

"Nightmare?"

Yondaime let out a softer moan and nodded.

Kankuro kissed his father's forehead. "Tell me about it?"

"No," his father mumbled.

Kankuro nodded. He couldn't push. "Okay, Tousan."

His father continued clinging to him, hard. After a few minutes, he asked, "Will we be in trouble?"

"What?" Kankuro said, startled. He stroked his father's head. "No, Dad. Of course not."

"Why not?"

Kankuro was deeply concerned. He gathered the covers around them more tightly. "Because we did nothing wrong, that's why."

"But I love you," Yondaime said.

"Why is that a problem?" Kankuro asked softly.

"I'm not allowed to love you." His father squeezed him and buried his face against Kankuro's chest. "I'm not allowed to love anybody. There was a trial…"

For a moment, Kankuro was stunned and confused. Then he realized his father was probably talking about the nightmare. He stroked his father's back. "It's okay. It was just a dream. A bad dream."

"But you were there, and I was there, and Otousama was there, and he said…he said…" Yondaime trembled. "I didn't deserve…because…" He couldn't seem to choke out the words.

Kankuro shifted to that he could lift his father's chin. He took in the pain in his father's wide, green eyes and kissed his father's lips gently. He used what he'd learned from last night, massaging his father's lips with his own, mouthing, comforting.

His father moaned softly and relaxed, going limp against Kankuro's chest.

When Kankuro ended the kiss, he saw a slight flush to his father's cheeks. "Does that explain it?" Kankuro brushed his father's hair out of his eyes.

Yondaime nodded. A small smile grew, then disappeared. "I don't want to go to work today."

"Then don't go," Kankuro said.

"But I'm the Kazekage."

"So you have the option to not work," Kankuro said. "You're the Kazekage. You're in charge."

Yondaime trembled. "That's not really true. I'm beholden…I have responsibilities…people will be angry if I'm not there…"

"Take a sick day," Kankuro advised. "I know you've never taken one as long as I've been alive. You deserve a couple. A few days isn't going to hurt you. And you need time. You need time to yourself, to recover. You've been working seven days a week for how long, exactly?"

His father mumbled an answer Kankuro couldn't understand.

Kankuro pretended. "Exactly." He flashed his father a smirk. "So you're not going in today, and that's final."

"Yes, sweetheart," Yondaime mumbled, and sighed. He gave his son an ironic look. "I never thought I would produce someone so much like Karura."

Kankuro grinned, pleased. "Must be in my genes. Since she wasn't here for most of my life, and you didn't do anything to make me this way. Ha!" He kissed his father's forehead. "Except be a good father. Raising an independent, mouthy, stubborn person is a good thing. Especially when he's in love with you and wants to take care you. You need someone strong to help you along."

His father gave him a look. Finally, his father said, "And what am I supposed to do today with all my free time?"

"Rest," Kankuro said. "Rest, write in your journal, and take some time for yourself."

His father made a face as if he'd just bitten into an unripe persimmon, rind and all. "The idea of spending a day alone with myself is completely unappealing. If that's the alternative to going to the office, I have important work to do."

His eyes widened, as if his own words had just hit him. "Yes, that's right. How can I consider making myself unavailable? Something could happen. Anything could happen!"

"Tousan, do a reality check with me for a moment," Kankuro said. He waited for his father's nod. "We live on the other side of the same building. If they need you for something, they can reach us. They know where you are. If there were a crisis, the Council would bee too cowardly to deal with it on their own. You would know. They would send a messenger as soon as possible."

"Oh." Yondaime considered that for a few moments, his head bowed. Then he slowly raised his head and looked at Kankuro uncertainly. "But…I don't trust the Council to give me any such fair warning."

"I see." Kankuro thought about how his father had been backed into a war. "Well…" He considered whether or not to be blunt, and decided to go on ahead. "But you were there the day they made the decision without you. You being in your office wasn't any different than you being here. You can't stop the Council from making decisions you don't like by being in your office."

Yondaime flinched.

Kankuro rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry, Dad, but it's true. Trying to babysit the Council from your office doesn't work. If that's why you work seven days a week…I'd consider calling a day off. Permanently. If not two. I mean, no one else works seven days a week. The Council sure doesn't. They work three. Lazy bastards. And you know you wouldn't let any ninja under your command work seven days a week. They'd get burned out. There are laws concerning how often a ninja can work." He bit his lip and watched for his father's response.

His father just looked tired at all of that.

Kankuro hugged him. "How come you're the only one working every day? Huh?"

"Because I'm the Kazekage," Yondaime mumbled in a tiny voice.

Kankuro squeezed him and kissed his cheek. "Well, from now on, the Kazekage has the same rights as anybody else."

Yondaime gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Kankuro." He closed his eyes and snuggled back down in bed. He hugged Kankuro around the waist and rested his face against Kankuro's side. "Thank you for talking sense into me."

Kankuro blushed. Not only at the words. The feeling of someone resting their head against him that way was strange, but nice. Warm. He reached down and stroked his father's side. "First thing's first: Breakfast in bed. I'll go downstairs and tell the cook to bring it up for you on a tray and everything. It'll be great." He gave his father a reassuring grin.

His father didn't seem to want to let go of him, but after a few moments, Yondaime nodded and released him.

Kankuro turned around the kissed the top of his father's head, then slipped out of bed and padded out of the room.

He entered the dining room at a fair clip. Temari and Gaara were sitting at the table, both with equal expressions of 'It's too early to be up'. His siblings glanced at him with mild curiosity.

"Where's Dad?" Temari asked.

"He's sick," Kankuro said.

Gaara raised an eyebrow. "Sick?" He didn't seem to understand the word. "Otousama does not get sick."

"Well, he does," Kankuro said. "He just never tells us about it. And he is. So I'm going to take care of him."

"How are we supposed to go on a mission today without you there?" Temari asked.

"I dunno," Kankuro said. "Talk to Baki about that."

"What about our mission orders?" Temari asked.

"I'll ask Dad that when I get back from the kitchen," Kankuro said. He ducked out of the room, headed into the kitchen. It was a huge, gleaming place he didn't have much occasion to be in. The cook and the wait staff liked to have it to themselves.

The cook rose from a wooden table and bowed. "Kankuro-dono."

"My dad's kinda sick today," Kankuro said with a reassuring smile. "Could you bring him breakfast in bed? I'm trying to get him to stay there, and that'd really help, if he had breakfast brought to him instead of coming downstairs."

The cook smiled. "Of course."

"Thanks." Kankuro dashed, and sped through the dining room before his siblings could question him further. He really didn't feel like explaining anything to them.

He was up the stairs in a flash, down the hall, and pushing through his father's bedroom door. "Okay," he said. He shut the door behind him. "They're gonna bring you breakfast. I told them you're sick, so there's no getting out of this."

Yondaime sat up, and then pouted at that announcement. "You are going to trap me here, aren't you?"

"That's the plan." Kankuro grinned and crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"How are you supposed to keep me here if you don't watch over me?" Yondaime asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'd say that's a flaw in your plan."

"Nope." Kankuro played it off casually. "I'm taking the day off, too."

His father laughed.

A maid brought up Yondaime's breakfast on a silver tray and set it down on Yondaime's lap. It was laden with a bowl of rice, an omelet, four small grilled fish, an orange sliced into sections, and a cup of tea.

"Thank you," Yondaime said politely. He gave her a wry smile. "I guess I'm grounded today."

Kankuro folded his arms across his chest. "Damn right."

"Ah, hai." The maid gave them both an uncertain smile and bowed out of the room.

"I think you've scared them by admitting I'm sick," Yondaime said casually, taking a sip of tea.

"Well, then you're just going to have to admit it more often so they don't think you're dying," Kankuro retorted.

"For a dying man, the cook seems to think I have a healthy appetite," Yondaime commented, setting down his tea and picking up his chopsticks. He ate a grilled fish first, and then a bite of rice.

Kankuro chuckled. "I think she simply didn't know what to bring you. So she brought you everything."

"The entire kitchen pantry, it would seem," Yondaime joked.

Kankuro laughed and shook his head. "It's not that much."

His father ate a bite of omelet and paused. "What about you, son? You didn't ask for any breakfast."

"I'll eat after I make sure you eat," Kankuro said.

"I'm eating," Yondaime said. "Get yourself breakfast. It's probably downstairs for you already."

Kankuro saluted and hopped up from the edge of the bed. "Yes, Tousan."

Yondaime sighed. "And come back. I'm lonely. I hate eating breakfast by myself."

Kankuro shot him a soft smile. "I'll be back." He ducked out of the room and went downstairs.

"Is he very sick?" Temari asked.

"I think he's just tired," Kankuro said. "Working all the time isn't any good for him. It wouldn't be good for anyone. He's kind of worn himself down a lot. I'll make sure he stays in bed at least for today, and then we'll see if he's any better tomorrow."

Temari nodded uncertainly. "Okay…" She looked worried. As if she hadn't thought their father could have anything like this happen.

_See, Dad, that's why you have to take a day off every week,_ Kankuro thought. He nabbed a tray from the kitchen, explaining where he was going, and loaded up his breakfast. "So Dad doesn't have to eat alone," he explained quickly.

Gaara looked more puzzled than anything else.

Kankuro took his tray of breakfast back up to his father's room and sat down on the bed cross-legged, balancing the tray on his lap. He noticed his father hadn't eaten a bite since he'd left.

Yondaime gave him a small smile. "I waited for you. It would be rude to eat while you were away. I'd be finished long before you."

"Hungry, then?" Kankuro teased.

"Very," Yondaime said. "Crying and telling stories takes a lot out of me."

Kankuro winced slightly. That was a sobering reminder of last night. He picked up his chopsticks and gestured. "All the more reason for you to rest today, then."

"Yes, son," Yondaime said patiently.

Kankuro bowed his head, looking at his food while he ate. He didn't realize he was picking at his omelet until he had chopped it all into bite-sized pieces of folded egg without touching it. "Dad…did no one really notice you were being hurt?"

"Oh, plenty of people noticed, Kankuro," Yondaime said calmly. "It was just that no one could do anything about it."

Kankuro's head snapped up. "Why not?" He looked at his father with wide eyes.

"Because no one could prove how I was being hurt, and I couldn't remember," Yondaime said.

Kankuro felt nauseous. He set down his chopsticks. "You mean…you blocked it all out."

Yondaime nodded. He tilted his head, examining Kankuro's face with concern. "You see, son…it wasn't safe to remember. It wasn't safe to remember until I was out of the house, in Karura's arms. Otherwise…"

Kankuro knew from his research that it was true; repression and dissociation helped people in his father's situation cope. Until outside help could come, or the situation naturally resolved itself – like in the case of growing up and moving out of the house – the survivor had to rely on their own endurance. And that endurance was achieved by not remembering. "I read about that," he said quietly.

Yondaime nodded and went back to eating his breakfast. "I had a sensei who cared about me while I was still in school. The one I mentioned last night; Akagizume no Basa. But after I graduated – at nine, if you'll remember…"

Kankuro nodded.

Yondaime sighed. "After that, I was put on a team with a jonin sensei who couldn't care less. He was all professionalism. And I didn't have an excuse to visit Basa-sensei. My father would have…suspected something, anyway. I was well aware of my father's jealousy and possessiveness towards me. I was aware of his temper and his rules. I just didn't remember the final part of our…relationship." His mouth twisted bitterly.

"That's not a relationship," Kankuro said immediately. "That's abuse. You didn't ask for it, and it wasn't your fault, so it's not a relationship. A relationship is something two people build together. There's no relationship here: just an abuser and his victim."

Yondaime smiled at Kankuro weakly and took a sip of tea. "I appreciate that." He paused and ate a bite of grilled fish. "Well…" His expression shifted to amusement. "I was more surprised than anybody that my tenuous connection to Basa-sensei resulted in my teaching Baki for a few years."

Kankuro had been wondering about that. Unlike Konoha's school system, families in Suna could request a specific teacher for their children. "So it wasn't just coincidence that…"

His father shook his head. "Basa-sensei recommended me to his cousin."

"So that makes Baki…" Kankuro tried to figure that out. But he was no good at this genealogy stuff. Especially cousins. Which sucked, because a lot of the families in Suna were linked by a system of distant cousins that was hard to untangle even for Suna residents.

"I believe it makes Baki Basa-sensei's cousin once removed," Yondaime said, his eyes sparkling. "I asked once I was assigned Baki's sensei."

"Yeah, how did that happen?" Kankuro asked. "I thought Baki said the other day that you weren't his first team."

"No," Yondaime allowed. He swallowed a bite of omelet. "Well, the fact is, Baki's first team was killed. Or MIA. I can't remember which. When Baki came up for reassignment – after he'd been cleared – my name was submitted."

His father's comment about Baki needing to be cleared had to do with the fact that it was a possible crime to survive the demise of one's team. On the one hand, people were expected to put the mission first. On the other hand, anyone who survived when the rest of their team had not was a suspect in the deaths of the team. It was a catch-22 that led to a lot of sole survivors committing suicide on the battlefield instead of turning themselves in for questioning.

No one ever said Suna culture wasn't messed up.

Yondaime shrugged. "And it so happened that two of my students had graduated to chuunin at the last exam, so I had two slots open. That's how I ended up with Baki and Junnosuke on my team – in addition to Tsumi, who hadn't graduated with her peers."

Kankuro was fascinated. He ate absently, his gaze on his father. His father never talked about the past like this. "Junnosuke? Tsumi? I don't think you've mentioned them before."

Yondaime smiled wryly. "Well…Junnosuke and Baki were like brothers. In spite of the fact that they didn't look anything alike, they got along so well together that they were able to do things in perfect sync. A rarity, and a gift, in this world. Junnosuke was killed on the night that Sandaime disappeared." He hesitated, biting his lip and looking down at his breakfast tray. "Baki spent a lot of time not forgiving himself."

"Is that why he's so shy about making new friends?" Kankuro blurted. Then he wished he hadn't spoken. His budding friendship with Baki was something he wanted to protect, and he didn't know how his father felt about him trying to befriend a person sixteen years older than him.

Yondaime nodded. "He's a little withdrawn, still." He didn't seem to notice Kankuro's self-consciousness.

Kankuro was relieved. He tried to get himself mentally back on track. He scratched his head. "So…what happened to Tsumi?"

Yondaime snorted. "That's the question, isn't it? I think she joined ANBU. Other than that…She let everyone lose track of her. Her clan was killed in the war, so she grew distant."

"Oh." Kankuro poked at his omelet. "That sounds like kind of a sad story."

"Most stories I know are, unfortunately." Yondaime sighed. He raised his head and looked at his son. "I'm sorry to depress you."

Kankuro started to shake his head, then stopped. He grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Well, you know how you can make it up to me?"

His father grinned back warily. "How?"

Kankuro's grin widened. "Making out with me."

"You are impossible!" his father exclaimed, but he laughed.

"I'm fourteen," Kankuro said. "Hormones and stuff. It's not my fault."

His father looked at him fondly. "Uh-huh."

They finished eating. Kankuro stacked the dishes and then stacked the trays. He set them on the top of his father's nightstand and then crossed the distance between them, straddling his father's lap. He knelt, waiting for his father's reaction.

His father blushed and glanced away. "Well…"

Kankuro reached up and stroked his cheek. "Do you object?" He wasn't sure how serious he'd been about wanting a kiss, but he realized now he was dead serious. Just thinking about how the kiss felt last night made heat course through his body.

His father looked at him with wide eyes. "Object?"

"To a kiss and stuff," Kankuro said softly.

His father swallowed and shook his head.

Kankuro gave him a small smile and stroked his cheek for a moment more. Then he leaned in and initiated a kiss. He mouthed his father's lips uncertainly, not sure of what he was doing. Last night seemed like a long time ago, and it went by so fast Kankuro didn't think he remembered how to do it right.

Yondaime gently wound his arms around Kankuro's waist and kissed in return. Kankuro thought his father's kiss felt just as uncertain as his own.

Kankuro ended the kiss and looked into his father's eyes. "Love you."

Heat flooded his father's cheeks. "I love you, too. Kankuro…do you really…want to kiss me? I'm so –"

"Yes," Kankuro said immediately. "I really do. Again and again." He made himself half-hard just saying it. He was embarrassed, but he made no attempt to hide that fact from his father. What could be more convincing than a reaction like that? He sat down on his father's lap.

His father gave a start, and then held Kankuro to him closely, stroking Kankuro's back. "I could…kill myself if I ever used you for my sexual desires –"

"You aren't," Kankuro said, his breath stolen away by how his father still compared himself to the monster his grandfather had been. He kissed his father insistently, pressing their mouths together with a need to erase those words from his father's lips.

His father moaned and stroked the back of Kankuro's head, his hand sliding down to the back of Kankuro's neck.

That sent off a cascade of tingles throughout Kankuro's body. He gasped into their kiss and sucked on his father's upper lip desperately, trying to somehow convey his response.

His father twitched and let out a small, sharp noise. He panted and ran his tongue along Kankuro's lower lip.

Kankuro sucked in his breath at this feeling. The warm, soft sensation of his father's tongue licking over his lip was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. A sharp jolt went through him, and he instantly started leaking. "Tousan!"

Yondaime kissed his lower lip and sucked on it gently, then released Kankuro from the kiss. "I think we should stop."

Kankuro looked at his father with wide eyes, dazed.

"We're both too invested…" His father trailed off.

Kankuro wasn't sure what his father meant. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Yondaime laughed. "But not if we want to avoid coming in our pants."

Kankuro blushed wildly. He climbed off of his father's lap carefully and sat beside him.

His father put an arm around him and held him, stroking his arm. "I love you very much, and I want to take our time. Make sure we aren't doing anything hasty. Foolish."

_I could go for something foolish right now,_ Kankuro thought, but he didn't say it. He suddenly remembered Temari's question. "Oh, yeah…Which mission are you going to send my team on, now that I'm not going?"

Yondaime looked bewildered. Then he burst out laughing. "I have no idea."

Kankuro grinned at his father fondly, realizing that this was the most he had ever heard his father laugh in one day. _See? I am good for you._

"I'll think of something," Yondaime assured Kankuro.

Kankuro nodded, happily. He realized this was the happiest he'd been in a while, too. Happy just to sit in bed with his father's arm around him, snuggled up. Sharing things with his father he wouldn't share with anyone else. And his father sharing special things in return. Kankuro had always wanted this.

Ever since he was eleven years old, he'd imagined being his father's special person. And when he and his father had ended up talking about puberty that year, Kankuro's fantasies had grown to have a sexual element to them.

Now, with the prospect of spending an entire day with his father by himself ahead of him, Kankuro was excited. He would get some real bonding time. And somehow, he would find the courage to talk about some of the things he'd imagined for the past three years.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

* * *

Yondaime called Baki into his bedroom by messenger, conveying the message through a maid and then a member of the messenger staff of the Complex. He smiled wryly at his son. "If you expect me to stay here, expect a lot of this."

Kankuro sat next to his father in bed, both of them tucked under the covers. "That's fine. As long as you don't spend all day managing from afar. I don't expect you to be able to give up control completely and just relax. This is a process you have to work on."

His father sat back against the headboard and nodded, seeming relieved at Kankuro's leniency.

Kankuro squeezed his father's hand under the blanket. He wanted to say that he was never going to punish his father, but that was the sort of thing that was proven with time. He'd have to be patient, and take his father's behavior calmly and forgivingly, until his father knew that he wasn't going to do the things that his grandfather did. Kankuro understood; there was a lot of damage to be undone.

Baki came in and bowed, then straightened and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Yondaime and Kankuro sitting in bed together. "Reporting, Kazekage-sama."

"My son has grounded me for not taking better care of myself," Yondaime said jovially.

Baki looked from Kankuro to Yondaime and allowed himself a small smile. "Sometimes sons have to do that."

"Indeed." Yondaime grinned. He paused thoughtfully. "Take Temari and Gaara to one of the canyon side training grounds and teach them about advanced chakra control. Kankuro's control is so precise that it seemed a waste to assign such a thing while they could be doing missions, but since Kankuro has the day off…wear Temari and Gaara out for me." He smiled. "Target practice should do that effectively."

Baki bowed.

"And tell 'em hi for me," Kankuro said. "I'll be back with them. I'm just babysitting Dad for the day to make sure that he doesn't strain himself."

His father grimaced and looked at Baki with pained resignation.

Baki suppressed a smile. "I will do that."

"Very well." Yondaime grinned. "That is all, then. You are dismissed."

Baki nodded. "Hai." He paused. "And…have a good day." He bowed, and then exited the room.

Yondaime blinked, startled.

"He cares about you," Kankuro said, wondering if he really had to explain that.

"Why?" his father asked, seeming honestly baffled.

Kankuro wanted to smack his forehead. _Oh, boy. I am going to have a lot of work to do. _It wasn't his father's fault; but it did explain to Kankuro that caring, loving people were invisible to his father. He'd never notice without prompting. Not unless his emotional wounds were healed.

"Because he likes you," Kankuro said. "Because you were the captain of his team as a kid. He trusts you, and he believes in you…and he likes you. So he cares about you. It may have been a long time, but Baki still remembers you."

Yondaime continued to look puzzled. But he didn't dispute Kankuro's words.

_Maybe it's because as a child, he always felt alone and like no one noticed him, no one noticed that he was hurt and needed help._ Kankuro knew distorting thoughts happened because of abuse, and they lasted into adulthood. He knew it was hard to challenge these beliefs. Wasn't it always hard to challenge emotional beliefs? The seat of it was some traumatic event, and it was difficult to dig through all of the pain for the right one. The event that if processed, would allow his father to change his point of view.

Kankuro resolved to help his father with that. _Step number one is getting him into therapy._ Family therapy between him and his father was less dire now that they had worked out their major difference of opinion at home. But that had only happened because of therapy, and Kankuro wasn't about to stop going. Not when Yuna and Mafumi were so nice. And to handle his father's trauma, they probably needed still more people. _We'll get as many people as it takes._

"We'll talk about it in therapy," Kankuro reassured his father. "I bet Yuna or Mafumi could explain it better than I can. Trust me: someday, you're going to realize why Baki is still attached to you."

His father furrowed his brow dubiously. "I did not mean to contest your opinion. I am merely surprised that one such as Baki would want anything to do with me."

"You picked him for our sensei," Kankuro pointed out.

"Yes…" Yondaime nodded. "It seems an appropriate reversal for Baki, and his family has been known for generations as the best teachers in Suna. I would expect no less from Baki; especially given his record."

Kankuro hesitated, and then took a chance. "You don't remember much of teaching him do you? That was around the time when you were still being hurt by your dad. So I bet chunks of you are missing." He hastily corrected himself, wondering at his choice of words. "I mean, your memories are missing."

"No, you are correct to say there is 'me' missing," Yondaime said. "I have been aware of that…without knowing what it meant. Other than it is a pain." He gave Kankuro a rueful smile. "I am missing all but the first two years of my training from genin to jonin. I do not remember more than one or two things from the first team I led. Baki's team – the one that included Junnosuke – is a treasured time in my life that I nonetheless only remember the latter part of. I remember Junnosuke's death, and being there for Baki at the funeral, speaking to Baki's parents about the difficulties ahead for Baki in adjusting to life without his teammate. I remember Tsumi being injured, and then withdrawing to ANBU. I remember the war being over, and no longer having Baki as a student." He sighed.

"But that doesn't explain at all how you formed the bond you had with Baki," Kankuro said. "Not at all."

His father bowed his head. "I know."

Kankuro hugged his father, concerned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like it was your fault. If I did, I'm sorry. I don't want you to think it's your fault you can't remember these things. Because it's not."

Yondaime smiled sadly and hugged Kankuro in response. "I feel very…tired."

"Then go to sleep some more," Kankuro said immediately.

"I don't want to," Yondaime said.

"Then let me just hold you," Kankuro said. "I'll hold you, and love you, and you can get some peace that way."

"Okay." His father's voice wavered only the slightest bit, but Kankuro caught it.

Kankuro positioned himself resting against the headboard, and his father lay down and rested his head in Kankuro's lap. Kankuro stroked his father's head. This was the most intimate position in their culture; in classic scroll paintings, samurai or ninjas were depicted resting their heads in their lover's or their wife's lap, receiving much needed comfort. To be a warrior was a tough job. Every soldier, no matter what the nation, needed a comforting person to come back to.

They stayed this way for an indeterminate amount of time. His father fell asleep, and Kankuro was left with his own thoughts. He cycled through the usual thoughts: puppet designs, plans for drawings, what Temari and Gaara were doing right now. Then he came to thoughts of his father. How beautiful his father was, how he wanted to know his father inside and out, and be known inside and out.

By the time lunch came around, Kankuro was hard.

He was happily distracted by the maid coming up and serving them lunch. When she knocked, Kankuro gently shook his father awake, and Yondaime joined him, sitting up.

"How is your health, Yondaime-sama?" she asked politely.

Yondaime gave her a smile. "Fine, fine."

She bowed and left, closing the door without a sound.

They ate lunch in near-silence. It was a maki salmon roll each, and a serving of chicken yakisoba. After an appropriate amount of time, the maid came back up to collect their dishes. Yondaime thanked her.

Then, they were left alone.

Yondaime sighed and stretched, his arms above his head, and his back arching.

Kankuro took in the graceful, catlike posture and decided not to say anything. Although, it made him want to paint his father more than ever.

His father dropped his arms with a sigh and rubbed his head. "I should get up."

"Relax." Kankuro stroked his father's arm.

"It's after lunch," Yondaime said.

"So?" Kankuro challenged. He gave his father a look. "The whole day means the whole day. Not the morning."

"Really? You want me to stay in bed all day?" His father looked disbelieving.

"I'll stay with you," Kankuro said quickly.

His father stared at him for a moment, then looked away, resting against the headboard with his back propped up by a pillow. "This isn't just luxurious, it's sinful," he murmured. "I should be doing something productive. Work."

"If you want to do something that's productive, help me with a problem," Kankuro suggested.

His father looked relieved. "What is your problem, son?" He reached out and squeezed Kankuro's shoulder.

Kankuro grinned. "I'm hard and have no way to relieve myself without you watching."

His father blushed madly. "Go to the bathroom," he choked out.

"If I do that, you're going to sneak away," Kankuro teased.

"I will not," his father protested. "You can trust me. Now go, please."

"Aww…" Kankuro looked at his father speculatively, his gaze half-lidded. "Are you sure you don't want to watch the show?"

His father's blush deepened further. Kankuro imagined that if this were a manga, spurts of blood would be coming out of his father's nose. He grinned broadly. "It's one of my fantasies, you know."

"Fan…Fantasies?" His father practically squeaked the word.

Kankuro nuzzled his father's ear, scarcely believing he had this much courage inside of him. "I imagined…touching myself in front of you, Tousan. That you would come into my room, and there I would be, sitting on top of the covers, my pajamas pants pulled down to expose me…and I'd be touching myself. Caught. And I would be embarrassed…but then you would say…" His stomach tightened. "'It's okay, son. Everyone does that. Want my help?'" Kankuro felt a pulse of arousal at admitting that.

He pulled away to study his father's face. "And I'd say yes."

His father looked awed. "Really?"

Kankuro suppressed a laugh. "Yeah. Ever since I was eleven, really. You were so sweet to me, so kind about my going through puberty…I developed a crush on you. That's natural, isn't it? You were always there for me, and you never made fun of me. You're the only person I'm comfortable showing my body to…because I know you love me and would never think bad things about my body."

"I guess that makes sense," Yondaime mumbled, wide-eyed. "I was just trying to help…Of course I love you, you're my son."

Kankuro kissed his father's cheek. "Really? You have no feelings of your own you'd like to divulge?"

Yondaime swallowed convulsively. "W-Well…"

Kankuro hugged him. "We're alone for the whole day. If there's something you want to try, Tousan, you just have to say so."

"I am not going to turn this day into a sexual escapade," Yondaime protested.

_That's what you think_. Kankuro gave him a steady, half-lidded gaze.

His father chuckled at his expression. "Oh, well, that would hardly be restful. Would it? I'm supposed to be resting." He slid down in bed and tucked the covers up to his chin.

Kankuro had to laugh. "You don't have to be shy. I think you're gorgeous. And if you don't want to do anything, that's okay." He slid down to join his father, lying beside him. "Let's just talk about our fantasies. We can do stuff later."

His father flushed, staining pink even out to his ears. "I'll let you go ahead."

Kankuro grinned. _I have permission!_ "Okay."  
Yondaime looked startled, and then smiled, blushing. His expression warred between exasperation and fondness. "Took that literally, did you?"

Kankuro chuckled. "Yup."

"I won't stop you from confiding in me," Yondaime said, putting on a calm demeanor. "I am your father."

_Uh-huh._ Kankuro flicked his gaze at his father, then looked up at the ceiling. "Well, I suppose it really started when I was eleven, like I said. Lots of these things are from then. I just elaborated on them over the years as I learned more about sex. About what people do in bed. I've read lots of manga…"

His father cleared his throat. "I see. Am I going to have to raid your room for a collection of dirty manga?"

Kankuro laughed. "No…not unless you want reading material."

His father blushed deeply.

Kankuro grinned at him for a moment. Then Kankuro redirected his gaze to the ceiling. "Anyway…I imagined first that you would come find me in one of the sitting rooms, one of the ones with bay windows, and you would ask how I was feeling. 'Crappy,' I'd say. And you'd ask me why, and I would tell you, and then you would cheer me up with a kiss."

"I think that's very normal," Yondaime said softly. "Karura used to do that for me. It was nice to come home to someone who cared that I had a bad day and wanted to make it better. That is so important, I think…I always tried to be that for you and your siblings, even if it wasn't in a romantic sense. That was something that was missing from my childhood. Very much." He looked up at Kankuro. "The only person whose bad days mattered in that household was my father."

"That was wrong," Kankuro agreed softly. He wrapped an arm around his father and hugged his father to his side. "I'll always be here to listen to your bad days."

"And I will never stop listening to yours," Yondaime assured him. "We will be equals."

Kankuro kissed his father gently. "I'll kiss it better whenever you want me to. Like this morning."

Yondaime nodded slightly. Then he hesitated. "There might be a lot of kissing better."

Kankuro grinned. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

His father blushed.

Kankuro stroked a lock of his father's spiky auburn hair. "Will you kiss it better for me, too?"

His father blushed harder. "…Hai."

Kankuro smiled and kissed his father again, a gentle, chaste kiss.

"What other fantasies do you have?" his father asked quietly.

Kankuro felt a pulse of warmth pass through him, tingling in his stomach. His father asking the question in that quiet, peacefully solicitous voice turned Kankuro on. "I imagined showering with you, and helping wash your back…"

Something that was normal in most households in Suna. Sharing bath time was important because even with the oases and wells Suna drew water from, water was still precious. Showering off quickly and using the bath to soak once they were clean saved water. Family members traditionally used the same bath water after getting clean, or even joined each other in the bath. Kankuro's household was one of the only ones he knew where bath times were completely private; no one showered off together, and someone had to abdicate the bathroom for the next person to get in the tub. Kankuro suspected now that such rules had to do with his grandfather.

Kankuro realized he'd trailed off. "And then you would silently, somehow, signal me to wash your front. And you'd be hard, and I would stroke you, and you would make these sounds of pleasure, and I would finish you, and then we'd kiss." He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at how unrealistic that fantasy was. "Sometimes the kissing would go on for a while. Sometimes you would return the favor on me, with your mouth…and then we'd just hold each other and lie in the tub, in the warm water."

When he got up the courage to look at his father, he was surprised to find tears in his father's eyes. "That's beautiful," Yondaime whispered. He stroked Kankuro's shoulder slowly. "What a wonderful imagination you have. So…poignant. And beautiful." He stroked Kankuro's cheek. "Were there any words to go along with this fantasy? Was there anything we would say to each other?"

Kankuro shook his head. "In my head, it was always silent. Because I had no idea what we would say to each other at a time like that."

Yondaime smiled. "Let me see if I can find the words."

Kankuro blushed. "Oh…kay." His insides squirmed pleasantly. He wondered what his father would come up with.

Yondaime closed his eyes for a moment, smiling softly. Then he nodded and opened his eyes. His gaze found Kankuro's. "I think…" He stroked Kankuro's cheek again, lightly caressing. "It should go something like this." He dropped his voice into a husky whisper. "Thank you, son. You did such a good job with my back, I need some attention up front. Would you help me once more?"

Kankuro felt a thrill of electric tingles. He gasped faintly. The feelings shot straight to his groin, making him half hard. His cheeks pulsed with heat once he realized his father was waiting for him to reply. He licked his lips. "Ah…hai."

"Thank you," Yondaime said softly. "Let me turn around and show you."

Kankuro imagined standing in the bathroom, his father turning around, exposing the aroused condition of his lithe body. His heart skipped a beat. "Oh…I see the problem. Let me take care of that."

"I'd appreciate it if you did," his father whispered silkily. "I think it's a problem only you can solve."

Kankuro's blush ratcheted up another couple notches. "I think you're right." Almost of their own accord, he reached out and stroked his hands down his father's chest, underneath the covers. He met the fabric of his father's sleeping yukata, but that did not impede the fantasy.

Yondaime moaned and let his head fall back. "Son…that is very good. That feels good."

Kankuro swallowed. He was all the way hard now. "I'm not finished yet. The best part is still to come."

"Oh, god," his father moaned. "You said the word 'come'."

Kankuro felt a jolt. His erection twitched. "Ah…um…yes. That's the word for it, isn't it?"

His father blushed madly. "Oh, hai. Yes, it is."

Kankuro slid his hands down his father's stomach, and crested them over his father's hips, running his hands over the contour of his father's body. He was shocked to feel a hard-on underneath his father's clothing. Shocked and thrilled. _Oh my god…he's hard like me. We're hard. _

"Dad…may I?" He hardly realized his own voice.

"Oh, hai," Yondaime said fervently. He pressed his hips gently into Kankuro's hands.

Kankuro's entire body buzzed with arousal. His nipples were achingly hard, his erection leaking in his underwear. _Oh, my god. Oh my god. _It was easy to part the thin folds of his father's sleeping yukata and run his hands over the front of his father's boxers. The cotton material was damp. _Oh, god._

"Just…rub?" his father said, pleading and uncertain.

That broke Kankuro's stunned paralysis. "Yes. I can do that." He gently rubbed with one hand, feeling the outline of his father's hard-on. It wasn't overwhelmingly big; it was kind of Kankuro's own size. There was something comforting about that.

His father let out a ragged moan and shifted. "Good. So…good…"

Kankuro swallowed. His own erection was burning and tingling. "I love you," he whispered.

His father rolled onto his back and lay still, his legs slightly parted.

Kankuro shifted as well, pressing himself against his father's side. He stroked his father through the boxers, getting them damper and damper. When they were soaked through in front, Kankuro picked at the waistband of his father's boxers hesitantly. "Do you want to…?"

His father nodded, his eyes closed and his lips parted in bliss. He wiggled, squirming out of his boxers.

Kankuro helped pull them off. He shoved them under the blankets at the foot of the bed, not wanting to expose his father's underwear in a room where someone might come and see them. He was glad they were both under the covers for this. That way, if they were startled by an interruption, no one would discover what they had been doing.

He wrapped his hand around his father's erection blindly. It was hot in his hand. The skin was soft, and the tip of his father's erection was wet, leaking beads of moisture against Kankuro's fingers.

There was something satisfying about that.

Kankuro stroked slowly, pausing frequently to rub the tip of his father's erection. He felt some wetness getting on the blanket and didn't care.

Yondaime was silent except for occasional gasps and soft moans.

Kankuro wished his father would be louder, but he was also wildly turned on. _My father…is letting me touch him this way._ His erection pulsed.

"Kankuro…feels good," his father whispered.

"I'm here," Kankuro said, wondering why that was what he wanted to say. "I'll always be here. And you'll always feel good."

Eternity seemed to hang in the room as time passed. It was as if they were a perpetually suspended grain of sand in an hourglass. Everything was sharper and softer at the same time. His father's breaths grew loud.

Eventually, his father pulled him in for a kiss. They mouthed each other's lips with passionate, tender slowness, memorizing, moving against each other, with each other. Yondaime's tongue ended up in Kankuro's mouth, and Kankuro's in Yondaime's, exchanging intimate caresses. The feeling of specialness, of significance, grew so large in Kankuro's chest he thought his heart would burst.

Then his father let out a sharp cry into his mouth and came.

Kankuro moaned, overcome himself. He withdrew his hand from his father's pulsing erection and stroked himself, slipping his hand into his boxers. He came in short order, jerking his hips against his hand and moaning out a soft wail. "Father…"

Then he lay still, heart pounding, tears in his eyes. Slowly, he withdrew his hand.

His father lay next to him, stunned and peaceful.

Kankuro slowly turned his head, looking at his father's face. He traced every curve, took in every shade of color, every intricacy of shadow and light. His father was glowing; eyes luminous, cheeks flushed, hair mussed. He wanted to see his father this way forever. _Now this would be a portrait._

His father slowly reached up under the covers and held his hand; squeezing gently. "You are remarkable," his father whispered. "And I love you."

Kankuro closed his eyes and snuggled up, feeling validated. A feathery lightness unfolded inside of his chest. He imagined a white bird soaring against the blue sky. Cloudless sky. He felt a smile curve his lips. "I love you, too."

They lay for a while in silence. Peaceful warmth enfolding them. Breathing the same breaths, the same glorious, sweet air. Everything was miraculous. Kankuro listened to the maid vacuuming the living room downstairs, a distant, familiar hum, with a new sense of wonder. They were alive. There was a saying, 'The ordinary is beautiful'. _Wabi sabi._

This was _wabi sabi_.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

After the glow wore off and it seemed they returned to the same planet as everyone else was living on, Kankuro and Yondaime got up and took a shower.

Unlike their little roleplay in bed, nothing sexually suggestive happened.

When they got out of the shower and dried off, they each meandered back to their own rooms to get dressed and then met back up in Yondaime's room. Kankuro noticed that his father had chosen a slate blue yukata with a pale silver bamboo pattern on it; an unusual choice. Usually, his father steered clear of patterns except for pinstripes. He'd only seen his father wear this particular yukata a couple times.

Kankuro smiled. "You look nice." He, himself, had opted for his baggy black t-shirt and black cargo shorts. Totally utilitarian and uninspiring. Like most of Kankuro's wardrobe, it was black and blah and got the job done: covering him up so he was presentable for the rest of the world.

His father had stood waiting for him in the middle of the room.

Kankuro stopped just inside the door with his hands in his pockets. "Yeah? You look like you wanna say something."

"Now that we are apparently into the part of our lives where we do these things…" His father cleared his throat. "I want you to see something, and understand…it's available, and, um…" He shifted and looked uncomfortable. "It's natural. It's a normal part of lovemaking."

Kankuro was embarrassed and curious. "Dad?"

"Look in the drawer, please," his father said. He pointed. "The top drawer of my nightstand."

_Oh_. Kankuro already knew what was in there, but he didn't tell his father that. That might embarrass his father even more than bringing up this topic had. _He's just trying to make sure we have safe sex._

He walked across the room to the nightstand and obediently opened the top drawer. He looked down into it. Kankuro took a deep breath and tried to play it casual. He was surprised to see all of the makeup products still there. But he obediently took his gaze to the pink bottle of lubrication. "Oh, yeah. Massage oil and lubrication."

Kankuro glanced at his father.

His father blushed. "I don't use it for the second one. Not specifically. I like the strawberry smell, and my muscles in my neck get stiff and sore from sitting at the office all day…so I use it for that."

Kankuro was amused that his father was trying to explain a lack of a sex life. "Yeah…" He grinned. "I'm sure I wouldn't have jumped to any conclusions." Actually, he had, but only for a split second.

"And there should be condoms," his father said evenly, noticeably swallowing his discomfort.

"Condoms? Why?" Kankuro raised his eyebrows. He couldn't help himself. "They're not left over from when Mom was alive, are they? Even if they're still in the package, that's kind of gross."

"No!" his father protested, blushing madly.

Kankuro had to laugh. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He cleared his throat and swallowed his grin. "What are they there for, then?"

Yondaime looked away. He stared at the wall studiously. "For you. For when you became…a sexually active mature adult. I read…somewhere…that a father should always be prepared."

Kankuro stared at him. "To give me sexual protection so I don't do my date bare? That's kind of messed up. Who wrote a thing like that?" He couldn't help the crassness. He was creeped out by the idea of fathers checking in on their sons and throwing condoms at them.

Yondaime shifted and folded his arms across his chest. He bowed his head and mumbled, "I don't know."

Kankuro immediately felt guilty. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around his father, pulling his father tight against him. "Hey…It's okay. I know you're trying to do what's best for me." He kissed his father's cheek. "But condoms are for girls, right?"

"Actually…" His father cleared his throat and admitted, "I don't know. I think it has more to do with creating a barrier so that experienced people don't…ah…"

"Don't pass on their yuck to new people if they've got something contagious?" Kankuro asked.

Yondaime nodded, looking horrified and relieved at the same time.

"You got anything?" Kankuro asked.

His father shook his head.

Kankuro squeezed him. "Then we don't need condoms, do we?"

Yondaime looked at his son with sudden understanding. "You're scared."

Kankuro's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't stopped to consider how he was reacting. "Well, yeah." He thought about that. "I'm scared…It sounds weird. I don't want to put a bag on my penis."

Yondaime snorted. "Well…" A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "I hear not a lot of men like it."

"So why do we do it?" Kankuro asked.

"Consideration," Yondaime said simply.

Kankuro thought about that. "Okay." He hesitated. "Does it feel weird…inside?" He hated asking that question, but he was already starting to wonder.

"Lubrication." His father cupped his cheek gently. "You never use a condom without lubrication. The two products are meant to work in conjunction." He kissed Kankuro's lips, then Kankuro's forehead. "It's alright. It's really not scary once you get used to it."

Kankuro hugged his father, grateful. A wave of relief and reassurance washed through him at the renewed realization that his father would take care of him and keep him safe. Safe from external things, sure, but also safe from anxiety. And that had always been Kankuro's bigger problem. He was grateful, simply put, to be doing this with his father. He knew that any older man could achieve the same knowledge and wisdom, but he didn't trust just anybody. He trusted his father, and he trusted his father's ability to see him through things.

His father hugged him in return, and then squeezed his shoulder. "Okay. You can close the drawer."

Kankuro nodded. He padded back over to the nightstand...and was faced with the makeup products again. He hesitated with his hand on the handle of the drawer. Kankuro bit his lip. Then he turned around, gathering up his courage. "Dad…you know, it's none of my business, but…you're not going to keep Temari's makeup forever, are you? That seems kind of mean."

Yondaime almost fell over. "Mean?"

"Well, yeah," Kankuro said. "I know she doesn't wear makeup all the time, but when she does, she wants to have the right shade, you know? If you keep confiscating stuff, all that means is that she's going to have to keep buying replacements. I know it's a learning curve and all not to keep scattering her stuff all over the house, but…" He shifted uneasily. "I don't claim to know a whole lot, but I notice that stuff is expensive."

His father calmed down during his rambling explanation and smiled. "It's alright. You can tell me your opinion about anything. I'm not going to mind…just as long as you know it's still my decision."

Kankuro nodded. "Of course." He chewed his lip. "So are you going to give it back?"

"The makeup in the top drawer of my nightstand is mine," Yondaime said. "Not Temari's."

"Say what?" Kankuro smiled, confused and knocked off balance. He felt somehow there was a joke in this.

"At first, it was just to hide the tired circles under my eyes from the Council," Yondaime said. "Those old men are far too nosy for their own good. They would have used my appearance of exhaustion as leverage of some kind, I am sure. So I did it."

That made more sense.

"I wondered why you looked so much better than you should," Kankuro said. "You did a really good job; I couldn't even tell, and I know about makeup as part of theatre."

Of course, kabuki paint and modern makeup were polar opposites. Modern makeup was all about understatement, and traditional kabuki paint was all about overstatement, making a message as loud and clear as possible. Kabuki was the art of stylized grandiosity, all larger-than-life characters and eloquent speeches, dramatic battles and ritualized shows of emotion.

Knowing about kabuki did not help Kankuro pick out when his father was wearing makeup to hide signs of tiredness.

His father's wording belatedly sank in. "At first?" Kankuro asked.

His father looked guilty. "It turned into something else, I'm afraid."

"Is…there something you're trying to tell me?" Kankuro raised an eyebrow. _What, does he cross-dress or something?_ He'd heard of guys who dressed in women's clothing and put on women's makeup, outside of a theatre production. There were even a couple bars where Kankuro had heard guys like that hung out. But he seriously doubted his father was trying to confess to having a double life.

"Last year, when I wanted to give Temari makeup for her birthday…" Yondaime hesitated and shifted. "I did not return the excess makeup to the store. I did not because…I kept it for myself. I did this because…I tried it on myself, and…I liked it." He swallowed. "I tried it on because…I have always wanted to know what it was like. But even while your mother was alive, Kankuro, I never…experimented that way."

He looked at Kankuro as though he expected Kankuro to physically attack him.

Kankuro smiled at him wryly. "Enemy ninjas who know nothing about our culture accuse me of wearing makeup all the time. It doesn't bother me. Even if it were true, I wouldn't care. It's my choice." He hoped that answer would calm his father down. "It's your choice to conduct yourself how you want. You should be able to wear makeup, just like I should be able to wear face paint without being called a fag all the time or discriminated against. I mean, even if I were, is that anyone's business? I don't do it with them."

"I appreciate that," his father said softly. Still, he looked sad. "I wish…I wish there was a world where we could all conduct ourselves freely, without discrimination."

Kankuro shut the drawer and came back to his father's side, holding his father gently. "Someday, there will be. Probably. I mean, we're making advancements all the time. You remember what Yuna-san said. My generation is allowed to show emotion, while yours wasn't. That's progress, isn't it, Tousan?" He looked at his father with a small smile, trying to be encouraging.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." His father nodded. Kankuro thought most of his father's calmness probably came from renewed physical contact, though.

"So, how come?" Kankuro prompted.

"What?" His father looked surprised.

"How come you wear it?" Kankuro asked. "You said it turned into something else. An experiment. An experiment in what?"

Yondaime bit his lip. He guided them back over to the bed and sat down on the edge, bringing Kankuro down beside him. He wrapped an arm around Kankuro's shoulders. "Sometimes," he said quietly, "I think about what if would have been like if I had been born female."

Kankuro couldn't take that in for a moment. He looked at his father with a sympathetic, blank expression. _I can't imagine…you as female. You're a man. You're my dad._ But he didn't say any of that. That would likely only hurt his father's feelings. Even though it was the truth, it sounded like rejection. And it wasn't. Kankuro simply couldn't grasp the concept. _I guess…in theatre…_he thought slowly.

In theatre, ancient laws had forbidden women from participating, after too many feudal warriors carried them off as wives after a good performance…or simply had sex with them. That had stopped the clandestine marriages and elopements. That hadn't stopped the sex. Kankuro always thought that was a funny end to the story. _Goes to show people are less discerning about that than you'd think. A pretty girl is a pretty girl…even if she's a man. _

He then realized that his brain had given him the answer. Kankuro smiled at his father. "I understand. Masculine and feminine are constructs. So you want to be feminine sometimes. That's no big deal."

His father looked astounded. Then he said wryly, "You are one of the only people who would ever think so. To most people, it is not… 'no big deal'."

"But they're pricks," Kankuro said reasonably. "I'm your son. And I love you. So anything you like to do is okay."

His father looked at him in disbelief, wide-eyed and blushing.

"You don't get a lot of validation, do you," Kankuro concluded.

"Well…" His father picked at his yukata self-consciously and looked away. "Karura used to do a lot of that. 'You're alright the way you are', and a lot of things like that. She'd say to me, 'The way you were made, or the way you turned out, is okay with me'." He was smiling softly by the end of that statement.

Kankuro squeezed his father's hand. "Well, it's okay with me, too." He kissed his father's cheek.

"I'm glad," Yondaime said softly, squeezing Kankuro's hand in return. "I would hate to lose you because of how I am. I don't want to…make you uncomfortable or scare you away."

Kankuro linked their arms. "Well, that is not going to happen. I'm here to stay." He leaned against his father's side.

His father leaned against him in return and rubbed his back.

Temari and Gaara came back from their practice worn out and dusty. Baki reported briefly that Temari and Gaara had done well with chakra control exercises, showing improvement throughout the day. Then he teleported out, going home, and Temari and Gaara dragged themselves to their bathrooms to wash up.

Afterwards, everyone met in the dining room for dinner.

"You're looking better, Dad," Temari commented.

Their father smiled. "Thank you, Temari. I feel better."

Kankuro bit his lip to choke down a snort. Temari would flip if she ever found out why their dad was feeling better. _A little sex goes a long way._ He knew they hadn't technically had sex, but they'd gotten a lot closer than Kankuro had ever been. It had been totally mind-blowing. He knew he was going to think about it for a long time to come. _Me and my dad…got each other off today_. His head spun.

It was almost a relief when things had to return back to normal. Kankuro went to his room to get some sketching time to himself. His father retreated for journal time. Temari messed with her koto – not that she could coax more than a simple song out of it – and Gaara went to meditate on the roof. They all had their specific alone times and coping mechanisms. In a way, Kankuro supposed it proved they were all healthier than people gave them credit for. _Now that Dad's joining in, I know that's true._

He lay on his floor on his stomach, sketching a human-type puppet. _Maybe smoke expellers on the hands…_ Kankuro drew a circle on each palm of his model design. He worked on the puppet until he dragged himself into bed and fell asleep. _Someday,_ he thought sleepily, _I'm gonna be a great puppet designer like Sasori. And everybody's gonna want one of my puppets. I'll be famous._

Then he dropped off, happy and satisfied. It had been a wonderful day off.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

The four o'clock appointment on Monday came. Kankuro noticed when he went back to the office to pick his father up that his father looked less than thrilled about it. _Well, that makes two of us._ Kankuro was less than happy also. He knew it would be difficult. His father had to talk about his grandfather, and they had to own up and explain about their relationship, and Yuna had to listen and tell them what to do next. How to get help for his father's problems. Because Kankuro was not going to walk out of that therapy office without a solution. He needed a solution to help fix his father.

They walked over to the therapy office silently, taking their seats next to each other in the waiting room until Yuna could come get them.

She was as solicitous as last time, her chakra light and airy. Kankuro had no doubt it was a conscious tactic to set her patients at ease. It worked. Kankuro's chest felt less tight and choked up. His father was silent, but calm.

Once they got settled, Kankuro and Yondaime in their side by side chairs, and Yuna across from them in hers, she smiled, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for them to speak.

"My father…" Yondaime trailed off.

Yuna nodded encouragingly.

"My father…" Yondaime's voice dropped to a whisper. "Hurt me. And that's why I didn't believe Kankuro." He bowed his head. "But I believe him now. I believe my son." He raised his head and looked at Yuna.

Kankuro swallowed and squeezed his father's arm. "I love him, very much, and I am going to take care of him now. Our differences…the ones we came to you for in the first place…are resolved. But we'd still like your help."

"Yes, of course." Yuna looked at Yondaime sympathetically. "In what way would you like my assistance?"

"My dad…" Kankuro hesitated. He didn't know how to sum it up for a moment. "…needs a lot of help," he finished.

Yondaime sighed.

"What kind of help?" Yuna asked gently. She looked from Kankuro to Yondaime. "And what kind of hurt? I need to know details if I am to help you. Or at least feelings. Feelings are a great indicator of what is going on, or has gone on in the past."

"I remembered," Yondaime said unsteadily, "after I got married to Karura." He looked away, then glanced at Yuna, as if wary to stop watching her reactions. "When I started dating her, I knew I felt…free. Ecstatic. Alive, at last. And then…once we were engaged…terrified. Terrified that someone would take her away." He hesitated, and then visibly forced out, "My father. I thought my father would take her away."

"Your father was jealous?" Yuna asked. "Or was it something else?"

"Something…else," Yondaime said. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. "Dark. Very dark." He shook his head. "Something so dark inside me. This knowledge. I wanted – I wanted to spare my son this darkness, spare…spare myself the knowing, I –"

Kankuro shot up and hugged his father fiercely. "It's okay. We're going to get you help. It's okay. You can do it. He's dead now. You're okay."

His father took a deep breath and relaxed, limply accepting Kankuro's embrace. "For a long time, I never accepted that anyone could be as perfect as Karura," he said slowly. "As loving. As kind. As giving. As understanding."

Kankuro felt his father trembling. He silently got his father to stand up. Then he sat down, pulling his father down onto his lap. It was a little awkward, but not much. It was worth it to be able to hold his father properly.

He looked at the therapist defiantly, but Yuna didn't say anything. Her gaze was fixed on Yondaime, and she looked concerned.

Kankuro gauged her reactions for a moment longer, then turned his attention to his father. He tightened his arms around his father and kissed his father's cheek.

Yondaime wrapped his arms around Kankuro's shoulders loosely and rested his head against Kankuro's. "I have a son," Yondaime whispered, "who is wonderful and kind."

"And loving," Kankuro said firmly. "Because it is love. Real love. Adult love. And I don't care how it came about. I like it, and I'm not going to change. I'm growing up to be exactly who I want to be."

"I respect that," Yuna said.

Kankuro nodded. "Good."

"And I understand Yondaime's position," Yuna said. "The loss of a loved one very dear to us is traumatic. Dramatically life-altering. You were right to believe no one could be Karura. The error is that you defined Karura as the only person who could love you."

Yondaime nodded. "I know that now."

Kankuro squeezed him. "We're going to be very happy together."

"I believe that," Yuna said gently. "You have every right to be happy, and with proper support you will achieve long-lasting happiness. Wherever there is love and respect, happiness can be found."

Yondaime blushed slightly and nodded. "I agree. This is the road to recovery for me…" He took a deep breath and looked around the room. "This place, and these people…will be good for me."

_Now he just has to get up the courage to talk about his father,_ Kankuro realized. _He's stuck._

"But you're scared of what lies ahead?" Yuna suggested.

Yondaime nodded again. "Oh, yes. Very." He was matter of fact about it.

"What scares you?" Yuna asked.

"I think that I have more terrible things to remember," Yondaime said.

"Hmm. Mm-hmm…" Yuna nodded slowly. "And this would mean?"

Yondaime hesitated, looking confused. "Well. Well, it would mean…" He looked from her to Kankuro. "I would be alone."

"Why?" Yuna's tone was patient.

"Because no one could bear this pain," Yondaime said.

"Your assumption is that this pain is unbearable, and no one else would be willing to bear it with you," Yuna said, gesturing with her pen.

"Yes," Yondaime said.

Kankuro hugged him tightly. "That's not true. I could never leave you. Especially not leave you to face your pain alone. I love you too much. People who love each other stick together."

"The pain is not unbearable if we approach the topic slowly," Yuna said. "There is the belief that ripping off a bandage quickly is the best way to go; however, the truth is that by carefully treating and soaking the bandage, the adhesive will dissolve and the bandage will come off painlessly. The key is to take more time, Yondaime-sama, not less. We are not going to rip off your bandages. That values speed over comfort. Your comfort is the top priority in this process, since you have endured so much pain already. I don't doubt that another painful experience would bring you to your knees in this state. You need much love and care. We are not going to hurt you in order to help you. That is flawed reasoning."

Kankuro looked to his father.

His father looked relieved. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"We must go at your own pace," Yuna said. "The pace that is comfortable with you."

Kankuro felt his father relax in his arms. He squeezed his father gently. "Yeah. This is all about you. Don't be concerned about us. We're just here to help you." He kissed his father's temple, and ran his fingers through his father's hair, brushing it back from his father's forehead. He was relieved that he could show his feelings for his father openly here, without judgment, and without the fear that Yuna was going to take his father away. His father needed him.

"Where would you like to start?" Yuna asked gently.

"My father was a bad man," Yondaime said. "An objectively bad man. Anyone who knew him could tell you that."

Yuna nodded. "Okay…what did he do that was bad? Tell me a story."

Yondaime took a deep breath. "He would always be complaining. Every day when he came home from work, he'd complain. He'd complain about how stupid people were, and how disrespectful people were, and how they ignored him and how he knew better, and he'd get so angry he'd yell at us. He never asked how we had been, he never cared how our days had gone. He just wanted to come back to the kitchen and yell."

"Who is 'we'?" Yuna asked gently.

"Me and my mother," Yondaime said. He shook his head slightly and corrected himself. "My mother and I. That was 'we'. We were always we. Our father's audience. Father's captive audience."

Kankuro noted the confusion, and didn't say anything about it. He wondered what it meant.

"Mother hated him," Yondaime said. "She was always saying, 'I hate that man. If there were any way we could leave, I would.'"

"That instilled in you a sense of hopelessness," Yuna said. "Because she told you that no matter what pain you were in, you couldn't leave."

"Yes," Yondaime said. He thought for a moment. "I stopped telling her he hurt me. She didn't care anyway. She'd just tell me we had to be brave and not say anything."

"Why couldn't you say anything?" Yuna asked gently.

"He'd kill her," Yondaime said.

"I see," Yuna murmured. "So there was a threat against the life of the parent that you did love."

"Love?" Yondaime furrowed his brow, as if puzzled.

"How did you feel about your mother?" Yuna asked.

"I didn't want her to die," Yondaime said.

"Ah." Yuna nodded, and said gently, "I'm sorry for making assumptions. I'll let you tell the story, Yondaime."

"She took care of me," Yondaime said.

"How did she take care of you?"

"She cooked all the meals and did all the laundry and did all the things that made the household run," Yondaime said. "Father just earned the money. And he didn't earn enough. He was always complaining about how he didn't earn enough and questioning Mother's expenses, even when it was just soap."

"Your parents would speak of financial things in front of you?" Yuna asked.

Yondaime nodded. "Hai."

"Starting at what age?"

Yondaime looked deeply saddened. "An argument when I was three was the first one I could remember. Mother wanted to get me a birthday cake. Father said, 'Three years olds don't need birthday cake! Who's going to eat it? Us? He doesn't have any friends. We'll be stuck eating cake for a week!'"

Kankuro's mind went blank, he was so stunned. He hugged his father and started automatically rubbing his father's back. "They argued about your birthday?"

"Oh, hai," Yondaime said. "All the time. Every year." He looked from Kankuro to Yuna. "Mother liked celebrations, you see. We didn't get enough nice things. A birthday was an excuse to show off. Be festive, buy special foods…Father didn't like her. He didn't like birthdays. He said some families didn't even celebrate birthdays. Birthday celebrations are a new thing, he said. Too fancy. Too expensive. Too pointless. After all, no one's that glad to have someone here in the first place. 'Celebrate Kyou's birth like some god? I don't think so.'"

"His real name is Kyou," Kankuro told Yuna quietly. "Don't ask what it means. It's horrible."

Yuna nodded. She looked at the two of them sympathetically. "So you were not cherished in this household."

Yondaime let out a laugh. "Not at all." He looked at her with amusement. "In fact, my most important role was being beaten up whenever my father felt like venting some of his frustration. I had to volunteer for it. Otherwise, I was ungrateful and callous."

"Your father was the ungrateful, callous one," Yuna pointed out.

Yondaime smiled. "I know. Oh, I know. I've known for years. He's the one he talks about when he talks about everyone else. It's a fairly regular occurrence. Berating my mother for her temper. Calling me heartless. Saying that so-and-so is touchy. Sometimes he'd say that to my mother or me. 'You're so touchy. Stop snapping at me. All you ever care about is yourself'. He would hurt me that way, with words. Until I allowed him to beat me again. I always told myself I wouldn't speak up, but he would get so angry, put on this angry face, and I couldn't turn him down. I was always 'Yes, Otousama'-ing everything he'd do. He called me an agreeable child when he was in a good mood."

Kankuro was sickened. _Tell her about the abuse,_ he wanted to whisper. _Tell her about the sexual stuff._

But Yuna was right. Neither of them should push his father to talk before he was ready. Venting off all of this stuff needed to come first. Disclosure happened in steps; especially for traumatized children. He'd read traumatized children tested the waters for a long time to come, divulging things that happened in bits and pieces until they were sure nothing would get them in trouble.

"Did you like being an agreeable child?" Yuna asked.

Yondaime sighed. "Yes." Then he shifted uncomfortably against Kankuro and hid his head against Kankuro's shoulder. "No," he admitted, in a mumble.

"That's alright," Yuna said. "I think a child is not always supposed to be agreeable."

"They're not?"  
"No," Yuna said. "Sometimes a child should say no."

Yondaime raised his head. "Like when?"

"Whenever someone wants you to hurt," Yuna said. "You should say 'no'."

"No," Yondaime said, as if pondering that word. He frowned, his brow furrowed.

Yuna nodded. "No. It's a simple word that means you've denied permission. You don't have to give permission to anyone who wants to hurt you."

"What if it's my father?" Yondaime asked.

"There is still 'no'," Yuna said.

Yondaime took this in for a moment and nodded, taking a deep breath. "'No'. Okay." He shifted. "I feel tired. Can we be over now?"

"Yes," Yuna said gently. "I think you've done quite enough. You're probably tired, aren't you? You need to go to bed and rest."

"Yes," Yondaime said. "I don't get enough rest. There are all of those nightmares. They get in the way whenever I try to rest. It's horrible."

"You could talk to your depression counselor about that," Yuna said. "I bet she would have a way to get more rest, Yondaime."

"I will." Yondaime looked to Kankuro. "Kankuro says I should. I should…" He sighed. "Take pills and stuff. To make me feel better."

"I think that is a possibility," Yuna said. "If you decide you want to talk about medication, we have a psychiatrist you can talk to. He is a very nice man."

"Can't we have a woman?" Yondaime asked timidly.

Yuna nodded. "Of course you can. The man is really nice, though." She smiled encouragingly.

Yondaime hesitated.

Yuna laughed. "No? Okay. It's okay. I don't want to make the decision for you. You should go to whoever makes you comfortable. I'll get you a nice woman psychiatrist if you want to have that talk. Okay?"

"Okay," Yondaime said. He nodded.

"You can go home now," Yuna said gently. "Let me walk you out to the waiting room." She rose from her chair.

Kankuro rose and helped his father get up as well. His father still clung to him. Kankuro didn't mind that at all. He rubbed his father's back. "Tousan, come home with me and have dinner."

His father nodded. "I will."

Yuna led them down the hall back to the waiting room.

Kankuro was concerned. His father led his hand all the way out of the therapy office. He only let go when they reached the stairs. That was unlike his father. Usually, his father wanted to maintain a semblance of dignity in front of other people. At this moment, it looked as though his father couldn't care less.

His father took his hand again when they pushed out of the front door and exited onto the street. The afternoon sun was momentarily blinding. A hot breeze stirred up, dry, stroking Kankuro's cheek like sandpaper. His father squeezed his hand.

Kankuro glanced down the street, letting his eyes adjust. When he could see, he looked back at his father. "Are you okay?"

His father looked at him silently. Kankuro saw confusion and vulnerability in his father's eyes.

Kankuro made sure no one was looking and gathered his father into his arms. "You're hurt."

His father took a deep breath and nodded.

Kankuro wished he knew how to teleport. That was a jutsu he hadn't learned; it was a jonin level jutsu. Instead, he picked up his father the only way he knew how – bridal style – and used body flicker, keeping out of sight by using the shadows. The Kazekage Complex wasn't that far away. He managed to sneak in through his father's window. Probably only by virtue of the fact that his father's bodyguards recognized them and didn't step in. If just anyone tried this stunt, they'd be dead before they could blink.

Kankuro let out a sigh of relief and helped his father stand up. He shut the window behind them and pulled the curtains. It was much cooler in here than it was outside. It was a typical Suna late afternoon: like the mouth of a dragon. Sweltering.

Yondaime looked around the bedroom in confusion.

Kankuro watched this but made no attempt to speak. He had no idea what was going on; only that since the end of the therapy session, he'd gotten a weird vibe off of his father. Like a chakra fluctuation or something. He didn't know what it was, but it freaked him out. And when he got freaked out, he got very quiet and calm and still. Call it coping mechanisms because of being around Shukaku.

Yondaime turned to Kankuro and rubbed the back of his head. "Kankuro…Why are we at home? How did we get here? I thought we were going to a therapy appointment."

Kankuro looked at him in disbelief. _We just went there! We've been there for the past hour! _

His father took in his expression. "Oh, don't tell me we missed it. Did we skip it? Really? What for? I thought we agreed this was important." Yondaime looked around again, started pacing, and walked himself in a circle. "I don't understand it. How did we end up here?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Of all places…"

"We came home after the therapy appointment," Kankuro said slowly. He wasn't trying to be patronizing. Slow seemed to be his top speed. He was in so much shock he didn't think he could move.

"After?" His father stared at him.

"After." Kankuro nodded, slowly and carefully. "Are you okay?" His father's eyes didn't have the same look to them as at the therapy building. He realized his father's eyed had been bluer then. Now they were green. The light green they'd always been. _Wait…What? Why would his eyes change color?_ Kankuro knew some people's eyes naturally changed color. His father was not one of them.

Yondaime blinked and tried to assess the question, disbelief and irritation warring with curiosity. "I…I think so. Why?"

"Because you weren't okay before," Kankuro said. "I took you home."

"Instead of go to therapy?" His father groaned. "Oh, Kankuro. I could take a little bit of discomfort. You need to make me go."

"No," Kankuro said. "We went to therapy. We've been – It's five o'clock. It's dinnertime. Temari and Gaara are probably downstairs waiting for us." He waited for his father's reaction.

Yondaime paled, and his eyes sharpened with unwilling comprehension. "Five o'clock? Really?" He turned away, glancing at the clock on his nightstand, and rubbed his lower lip. A sure sign that he was thinking hard. "I guess I must have…blacked it out."

He turned to face Kankuro pleadingly. "I black out sometimes under period of stress. I'm not like this all the time. I promise you: I've never done anything dangerous while under like that. I don't think I have, anyway. Mostly meetings and things like that. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but…who would want to know a thing like that about their own father? I guess I must have blocked out that appointment because…" He took a deep breath. "I didn't like it. I didn't really want to go, which is why it made sense to me that I might get you to take me home instead of going. I can be a baby sometimes when it comes to these difficult things. Please be patient with me." He crossed the space between them and took Kankuro's hands. "I will work hard for us." He squeezed Kankuro's hands gently.

"I don't…have any doubts about that," Kankuro said, trying to choose his words carefully. It was difficult when his mind was racing. "You – You black out often?"

"Not often," Yondaime said. "Just when I'm really distressed. I admit it might happen a little more often now that we're going to war. I can't cope with that."

Kankuro wished his father hadn't brought it up. He'd been trying his best to forget the impending date. _The Chuunin Exam. God. We have to warn them_. But warning the Leaf of their own invasion would be treason. They'd become traitors. _But who's the traitor here? We have an international treaty with them. We're just trying to uphold the treaty…_ Kankuro brushed those thoughts away. They could think about that later.

_For right now…_ Kankuro squeezed his father's hands and gave his father a soft smile. "I love you. And I believe in you. You don't have to be scared of anything anymore. I understand why you are. Your life's been really hard before now. But we'll make it better. And we can have each other." He drew his father into his arms and hugged his father, rocking him back and forth gently.

"Oh, Kankuro…" Yondaime let out a sigh and clung to Kankuro in return, letting himself be rocked. He rested his weight against his son. "I love you so much…I don't know what I would do without you. I don't…I don't know how I would cope. I'm bad at coping. I'm bad at these things. I'm so terribly, inordinately, weak, you see."

"I'm sorry," Kankuro said softly. He rubbed his father's back. "It'll be okay. You'll see. Everything will be fine. I'm here now."

And he vowed he would be for the rest of forever. It didn't matter what his father's issues were. He was here to stay. They were going to love each other and help each other.

They'd already begun. How hard could the rest of forever be?

Kankuro kissed his father, mouthing tenderly, and closed his eyes, waiting for his father to respond. His father's lips hesitantly moved with his. He kept going, until he'd pulled a soft moan from them both. He opened his eyes and smiled.

His father smiled back, faintly blushing.

Kankuro reached up and stroked his pink cheek. "I love you. Hey…we're gonna be alright."

"I believe you," Yondaime said. His voice was soft and husky.

Kankuro flushed, a thrill of arousal going through him at the tone of his father's voice. He couldn't help it. He supposed he was going to react that way to his father's voice forever. It wasn't such a bad thing. Especially now that they had an understanding. He took his father's hand and squeezed it. "Want dinner?"

"Mm-hmm." His father chuckled, and his eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "Want dessert?"

Kankuro laughed, surprised. "Is that innuendo?"

"I don't know, you tell me," his father teased.

Kankuro blushed, but he laughed again. "Either way, I'll accept. I love dessert." He kissed the tip of his father's nose, and pressed a gentle kiss to his father's lips before they headed downstairs.

He was relieved his father had recovered enough to banter.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

They sat around the dinner table, Kankuro casting frequent glances his father's way to make sure his father was really as calm and collected as he seemed. After what had happened today, Kankuro wasn't sure he could trust to his father's state of mind without feeling a little jumpy.

For several minutes, everyone just ate. Dinner was rice, General Tso's chicken, and vegetable stirfry.

"Are you really going to therapy?" Temari asked.

"Yes, I am," Yondaime said.

Kankuro hoped the conversation would end here. Therapy was the last thing their father needed to think about right now.

Everyone ate in silence for a moment.

"Why?" Temari asked.

Kankuro wanted to punch her in the head.

Yondaime ate calmly. "I have many issues to work out surrounding your mother's death, and others things I would like to discuss at a later time, if that is alright with you."

"Sure, Dad," Temari said.

"Mother's death?" Gaara asked tonelessly.

"Yes." Yondaime nodded. "I have been grieving your mother's death for a long time. I would like to let go."

Gaara raised a hairless eyebrow. "What is there to let go?"

"My feelings of responsibility," Yondaime said. "As well as my guilt for how your childhood turned out."

Gaara stared at him. "Guilt?"

"Yes," Yondaime said.

Kankuro found himself holding his breath. _Please don't let there be an explosion. Not tonight. _

"So what's therapy like?" Temari asked. "Is there that big couch and the guy with glasses who stands over you with a clipboard?"

"No," Yondaime said.

Kankuro pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.

"Oh." Temari ate for a moment. "What is it like, then?"  
"For one thing, both my therapists are female," Yondaime said.

"Oh." Temari raised her eyebrows. "They're girls, huh? Is either of them pretty?"

"They're both physically attractive," Yondaime said. "But that is beside the point. I am seeing them for their deductive skills, not their bodies. Therapy is like talking with a really insightful person. It's like a Council meeting, except the therapist has no agenda except to help. It's quite relaxing, actually. You should try it sometime."

"I'm relaxed," Temari said. "I'm fine." She paused. "But I'm glad it's helping you." She ate her rice.

"Thank you," Yondaime said mildly.

Kankuro relieved. The conversation couldn't have gone better. Their dad kept it together, and also kept Temari from asking too many questions. Also, Gaara didn't blow up, either.

After they finished dinner, Temari and Gaara went upstairs. Kankuro lingered downstairs in the dining room with their father. He rose from his chair and came over to his father's side.

"Would you like some dessert?" Yondaime asked conversationally.

"Sure," Kankuro said. He leaned on the table, resting his elbows and folding his hands. "What is it?"

"Strawberries."

Kankuro flushed, thinking of the strawberry massage oil and lubrication upstairs.

Yondaime grinned. "Exactly." He rose and took his son's hand, then led Kankuro upstairs.

When they entered the bedroom, he shut the door, turned the lamps on, and turned off the overhead light. He smiled at Kankuro. "So the light is softer."

Kankuro had to agree it was more pleasant this way.

Yondaime went over to the nightstand and opened the top drawer, taking out the bottle of massage oil and lubrication. He held it up for Kankuro to see. "This is just a blend of coconut and vegetable oil with strawberry flavoring added. It's completely edible. And…uh…" He smiled impishly. "Spreadable."

Kankuro flushed. "You want that…" He pointed weakly.

Yondaime grinned. "Wherever you want it."

Kankuro opened his mouth, then shut it again. His mind was whirling. "On you?"

"Uh-huh." His father nodded and blushed harder, but didn't seem the least bit repentant.

Kankuro felt a pulse of heat go through his core that instantly made him hard. "Oh…kay." He paused. "So you're…going to take off your clothes, and…" _I'm going to get to see you naked. And spread dessert topping all over you?_ That was what the strawberry oil essentially sounded like to him.

Yondaime nodded again. He tilted his head. "Do you want to?"

"Sure," Kankuro said. His mouth was watering, and he felt the oddest, pleasant little tingles over his skin. His fingertips tingled, even.

His father grinned, nodded, and took off his martial arts jacket. Underneath, he wore a short-sleeved black shirt, with a long-sleeved mesh shirt underneath that. He peeled them both off and tossed them aside, revealing his narrow frame.

Kankuro was struck by how special this was. _I'm seeing him for the first time…_ "You're beautiful."

His father blushed and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Don't I keep saying that?" Kankuro said gently. He crossed the space between them and wound his arms around his father's bare torso, cradling his father against him. "You're beautiful, and every bit of you is like that. I like all of you." He kissed his father's cheek and rocked them gently back and forth, an almost-dance. He was overwhelmed by his sense of awe at this first time experience.

Slowly, hesitantly, he kissed lower, kissed his father's jaw, his father's chin, down his father's neck. He'd seen people do it in manga, but he was unprepared for how it felt. His father's neck was hot, the skin soft, and sweet smelling. A little like molasses and honey and apples. Kankuro kissed and nuzzled a spot halfway down his father's neck, unable to help lingering there.

His father let out a throaty moan, and his head fell back, exposing his neck to Kankuro fully.

Kankuro was still a couple inches shorter than his father, though he had been catching up fast sine he hit puberty. He licked and kissed, then guided his father to sit on the bed beside him. "I love you," he murmured. Then he went back to kissing his father's neck, gently sucking at the skin with each kiss.

"Lower," his father moaned.

Kankuro raised his head quickly, surprised. "Lower?"

His father nodded, and let out another soft moan. "Lower. Need…my nipples."

Kankuro couldn't breathe. _Oh, god!_ His underwear was suddenly too tight. He was aching, straining against the confines of his boxers. _Good god, we're going there?_

He grabbed the strawberry oil from the nightstand and uncapped it, hastily helping his father lie down on the bed. Once his father was safely lying on his back, Kankuro spread the strawberry oil over his father's nipples, smearing it across his father's chest at the same time. His father's chest was flat, with delicate, compact muscles.

Kankuro swallowed convulsively. He put the strawberry oil back on the nightstand and sat beside his father, his erection pulsing. He reached to wipe the oil off on his pants, then realized it was edible, and he was about to eat some of it anyway. Instead of wiping his hand off, Kankuro licked his fingers. "Mmm." He was pleasantly surprised.

His father gasped and let out a moan at that sight. "Oh, god…Kankuro…"

Kankuro was stunned. Then he recalled panels of characters licking their fingers to erotic effect. He hadn't understood it at the time, but now, seeing his father react this way, he couldn't resist. He licked and sucked his fingers off as slowly as possible.

His father turned a bright, cheerful red with arousal, and Kankuro could see a noticeable bulge in his father's pants.

Kankuro grinned and leaned down to kiss his father's lips, carefully avoiding putting his hand on his father's chest. "Tousan…" he said teasingly. "Would you like me to lick you off?"

"Yes, son." His father's voice was husky. "Yes…"

Kankuro straddled his father's hips, sitting down so they could both feel each other's clothed erections, and slid down over his father gracefully, lining his mouth up with one of his father's nipples. He extended his tongue and licked, lapping at the sweet, tangy oil. He loved the way the strawberry and coconut flavors mingled, and soon he found himself licking at his father for the taste as much as the pleasure it gave.

His father moaned and squirmed and whimpered, back arched and head thrown back.

Kankuro felt his erection burning and tingling. "Oh, god…Dad…it's so good." He switched nipples, cleaning off the other one. His mouth and tongue were getting coated with the sweet taste. He figured that was intentional.

His father let out a ragged moan and raked his fingers through his hair, panting, his chest heaving.

Kankuro moaned and licked possessively, lapping at every inch of his father's chest, including both nipples. He decided he liked this foreplay stuff. It had always looked fun in books, but one couldn't judge by fiction. He was glad it was fun in real life, too. His father's nipples had gotten really hard, and Kankuro liked that, too. He sucked on them, one and then the other, gently pulling them into his mouth and teasing them with his tongue. It was more appreciation and instinct than finesse, but judging by the sounds his father made, it felt good.

Kankuro kissed his way down lower, panting. "Dad, do you want to –" He stopped to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed and burning. He didn't know if he was ready, but he wanted to try. His father's erection had felt good in his hand. Maybe it would feel good in his mouth, too. And he'd heard that going down on a guy was the way to give him the most pleasure. Of course, he'd heard it in the context of guys and girls, but he could do anything a girl could do, couldn't he?

His father whimpered and struggled, pushing his pants and boxers down at the same time. His erection came free.

Kankuro looked at his father's erection with wide eyes. Sure, he'd touched it the other day, but now he was getting to see it. In addition, he saw that his father shaved down there. He'd never thought about it. _Wow…so smooth_. He ran his hand over everything, fascinated. His father's skin was warm and soft. Very soft.

His father moaned and spread his legs, going limp.

Kankuro knew then and there he had to try this going down on people thing. He grabbed the strawberry oil again and coated his father's erection generously. This time he kept the bottle beside him. "What a treat," he teased softly.

His father's breaths panted, and he turned redder. Kankuro saw beads of moisture well up on his father's tip. It was a beautiful sight; they were glistening, crystalline droplets in the golden light of the bedside lamps.

Kankuro squirmed down farther between his father's legs and leaned down. He gave his father's erection a lick. Underneath the sweetness of strawberries and coconut, Kankuro could taste something slightly salty and savory. Musky, almost. Except it wasn't unpleasant. Just different. It had its own kind of deeper sweetness, like the molasses notes Kankuro tasted on his father's neck.

His father moaned loudly, and his erection twitched.

Kankuro grinned. _This is going to be easy, isn't it?_ He cupped his father with both hands and licked, getting into it. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensations. Soft, hot, fruity, sweet. His father's pulse rolling down the length of his father's erection.

He wanted suddenly to make up for this terrible day. It had been a terrible day for his father, no matter which way he looked at it. He moaned deep in his throat and lowered his mouth over his father's erection, taking in as much of it as he could comfortably fit. Kankuro was pleasantly surprised by how much fit. He was three-quarters of the way down to the base of his father's erection.

Kankuro sucked, moaning, and nodded his head up and down, sliding his father's erection in and out of his mouth.

His father had gone very quiet and trembling. Kankuro stroked his father's inner thighs, thinking perhaps he'd startled his dad. His father let out a loud, aching moan, and his hips pressed into Kankuro's touch.

A thrill went down Kankuro's spine, making him hot all over. He straightened, releasing his father's erection, and tossed his baggy black t-shirt away. Then he got out of his black cargo pants, and his underwear while he was at it. He pulled off his father's pants and boxers the rest of the way, laying them both bare.

Then Kankuro dived back in, licking and sucking and moaning, his hands steadying him on his father's inner thighs.

His father suddenly couldn't keep still, or quiet, any longer. He squirmed, crying out, making all sorts of noises. Moans, whimpers, and inarticulate cries filled the room. Kankuro was glad that the rooms in the Kazekage mansion were all practically sound-proofed due to sturdy construction. He couldn't imagine what Temari and Gaara would think to hear their father sound this way.

He grinned to himself.

Then, suddenly, his father was coming, and Kankuro coughed and sputtered. He straightened into a sitting position, amused, and wiped his mouth on his arm. "Oops. Sorry."

His father looked at him in starry-eyed amazement, collapsed and utterly pink from head to foot. "For what?"

"Making you come," Kankuro said. He grinned, then rolled off the bed and retrieved his t-shirt, wiping himself down. He cleaned his father off next. "I didn't mean to go that far."

His father blinked in confusion, hair mussed and absolutely adorable.

"Without your permission," Kankuro clarified, climbing back onto the bed and sitting down between his father's legs again.

"N-No problem," his father stammered.

Kankuro chuckled at that and flopped down, snuggling up against his father's side. "It was good, huh?"

His father nodded slowly. Then he closed his eyes and rested his head against Kankuro's shoulder, seeming to pass out.

Kankuro let him. Amazement, victory, and delirious euphoria coursed through Kankuro's veins. _That was awesome! I want to do that every night! God. Who knew he could sound like that?_ He vowed to make his father sound like that as often as possible: unhinged in pleasure, crying out and squirming. It was glorious like nothing else in the whole world. Kankuro didn't think he could get enough of it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

The next few days were uneventful, aside from a visit to Mafumi and a referral to a psychiatrist, who prescribed Yondaime some medicine. There were three; one of them was for sleeping. Another was a short dose, fast-acting quick start that was only supposed to last a week and a half until the long-term medication was set to kick in.

Kankuro was worried that his father might object or forget to take the medication, but his father dutifully followed the new regiment.

Thursday morning, Kankuro woke up knowing this was the day he would face the impending disaster: He had to stop the war. His father had failed to talk the Council out of it. His father would wait for the inevitable to come. They couldn't afford denial and inaction. That would only result in tragedy.

Kankuro had had enough of tragedy in his life.

This time, things would be different.

As he went through his morning routine with his family, Kankuro was plotting. Outwardly, he was calm, answering questions normally and eating his breakfast the way he usually would. Inwardly, he was calculating strategies.

All of his analyzing led back to one thing: information. To form a plan sufficient to topple the war machine, he needed information. That was any good ninja's first step, and he didn't have enough information to make any decisions yet.

For instance, he needed to know who was behind the plan to start a war. Which man in the Council was the seed of the idea? Who were his supporters? If he and his supporters' concerns could be addressed effectively, if their minds could be changed, there would be no war.

Alternately, if they refused to be persuaded, their deaths would cause the movement to lose energy. If their deaths came about in the right way.

By the time Kankuro reached the Kazekage office with the rest of his family, he'd concluded that he needed access to the Council or to the Council meetings.

There was no way around it; Kankuro needed to be a jonin to get access to the Council. And he wasn't. So he needed someone he could trust who was a jonin, someone his father trusted, too, or else his father would take his head off for involving someone in the secret that there was going to be a war.

That person was set to arrive in about five minutes to take them on their mission for the day.

**xXx**

Their mission for the day was to clean up garbage in the pass through the canyons. The trash wasn't left there by visitors; it was their own sentry who kept carelessly throwing their packaging away. It was a bad habit that administrators were trying to crack down on, but in the meantime, litter collection was a typical genin team mission.

Kankuro waited until he was far behind with Baki. He stabbed his litter collection stick through a soda can and tossed it expertly into the basket on his back.

"We need to do something about the Council," Kankuro said. He scored the insulating paper sleeve from a portable tea cup.

"Why?" Baki asked in amusement. "What've they done now?"

"Declared war."

"Oh." Baki didn't look surprised, though he didn't look amused anymore. "It's about time. Iwa's been getting on my nerves lately. Everyone else's, too. Their ass is primed for kicking." He glanced at Temari and Gaara; they were far ahead in the pass, using their jutsu to sweep up any litter lodged in the rocky outcroppings on either side of the pass.

"Not Iwa," Kankuro said.

Baki froze. "What?"

"We're not going to war with Iwa," Kankuro said quietly. "We're going to war with Konoha."

"That's insane!" Baki exclaimed, barely managing to keep his voice down. He looked at Kankuro with shock. "If we attack Konoha, how can we take down Iwa? We need them. Konoha's not doing anything to piss us off. If we go to war with Iwa, then Konoha would have to join in. They hate Iwa as much as we do."

"I don't know why they've chosen Konoha," Kankuro said in a low voice. "Dad hasn't told me that part. All he's said is that the Council believes war will improve the economy." He glumly continued walking, stabbing a used napkin as he went.

"Well, yeah," Baki said. "A war with the right people would improve the economy. Like a war with our combined forces of Leaf and Sand against an enemy we could actually take down. Remind people we're real ninjas, not delivery men. War is good for our reputations. The big jobs are all about killing people, and we haven't done those since the war ended. Pretty much."

He sighed softly. "I can think of a few, but those have been scattered across the years, and only the best ninjas in the village get them. That's not enough to sustain an economy. Bloodthirsty lords are the best tippers, unfortunately."

"So does Konoha get more assassination missions than us? Is that it?" Kankuro asked. He glanced at Baki with concern, and absently collected an empty plastic bento box.

"No, I think they're spread pretty thin right now," Baki said. "Most of the really bloody missions go to Kiri and Iwa." He sighed. "That's why it doesn't make sense. Konoha has been our ally. The Leaf are the most like us in terms of philosophies and government. Most of us even have relatives in the Fire country. Did you know a long time ago the Fire country and the Wind country were the same country?"

Kankuro shook his head. He paused; this was too interesting for him to concentrate on work.

Baki gestured. "Well, think about it in terms of nature release."

Kankuro frowned. Nature release. They'd covered that during a short unit at school, but since they'd been told not to mess with their nature releases as pre-genin or genin due to the high chakra consumption, Kankuro wasn't sure he remembered how the nature transformation chart went.

He had to shake his head. "I'm not sure I follow. Nature releases are too advanced for us, remember?"

Baki blinked. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot that they changed that. It used to be a lesson taught to last year students. They really pushed the curriculum back in some cases, didn't they?" He gazed into the distance, frowning thoughtfully. "The five elements of the world – known also as the nature releases – interact with each other in specific ways. This has led to the Nature Transformation Chart taught in schools across the Five Great Nations. Basically, it's a circular diagram that denotes each element's strength and weakness."

Kankuro nodded. "I remember seeing something like that, but we only covered it in a day, and we weren't allowed to practice with our releases. In fact, they wouldn't even tell us what they were, in order to avoid temptation."

"Sad," Baki said. He shook his head. "Alright, I guess I'll explain."

"Please," Kankuro said.

Baki nodded. He pressed his lips together for a moment, thinking, and then said, "This chart came about because of the way elements interact with each other. However, there is more to an element than its strength and its weakness. The chart's flaw is that it doesn't explain magnification, and it doesn't explain stalemates."

"Magnification and stalemates," Kankuro said slowly.

Baki gave him a small smile. "For instance: Fire is listed as Wind's weakness. But this isn't exactly true. Wind is Fire's magnification. Against an enemy, this might mean defeat, but with an ally, it means victory. Do you see? Wind amplifies Fire. Our countries were once one, and our peoples were once one." He gestured. "Because we were always meant to work together."

"That's beautiful," Kankuro whispered. He was overwhelmed by the layers of history the Council was willing to throw away. _It's like we're attacking our own people._

"The two most common nature releases in both countries are the same." Baki held up two fingers. "Wind release and Fire release. You'll always find ninjas in the Land of Fire with Wind release, and ninjas in the Land of Wind with Fire release."

"If we're that inextricably bound, why would the Council want to attack them?" Kankuro asked.

"I don't know," Baki said. "Something definitely sounds strange, here."

"Could you try to find out what?" Kankuro asked.

Baki looked at him in surprise.

"You're a jonin, and I'm not," Kankuro said quickly, gesturing. "You're older, and wiser, and more respected. And you have to be a jonin just to get in to see the Council. You can sit in on the Council any time you want to, right? So you can go see what the matter is with them."

"Your father…does he know about this request?" Baki asked.

Kankuro grimaced. "No…" He hung his head. Then his head snapped up. "But – But he doesn't understand how you feel about him."

Baki raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't think you remember him from the old days, or care very much," Kankuro said. "When you told me you care a lot. So…he doesn't think he can ask you to do something dangerous for him. But he doesn't want the war to happen, either. He tried to prevent it. The Council won't listen to him. He's not the one that declares wars, after all. The Council does. Shodaime Kazekage gave up that right because he felt it was too much power, and not befitting a democracy, if he had the right to declare war all on his own."

"You've done your research," Baki said.

"Yes." Kankuro nodded, and then hesitated. "Will you help?"

Baki was silent for a few moments. "I think I can do better than find out the source of the problem," he said.

"Why is that?" Kankuro asked.

"I think I have someone I can inform about the Council's intentions," Baki said. "So that the word travels back to Konoha. That way, just in case we don't defuse this thing, they're ready."

_Wow…_ "You'd do that?" Kankuro asked.

"I have family in the Land of Fire," Baki said. "Cousins." He paused. "Second cousins, to be exact. But they're still family, and we communicate on holidays. Our grandparents were brothers. That makes us still closely related."

_So, you would do that. Because you'd be saving the lives of your family_. Kankuro nodded. "So there's someone you can tell? Like a double agent?"

"More like an information gatherer," Baki said. "He's not loyal to anyone but Konoha…yet he spends most of his time posing as someone who's retired after the Third Shinobi World War. He'd served his time, definitely, but I don't think he's retired. I think he's merely gained the freedom to roam where he pleases."

_That sounds like a pretty cool life_. For a moment, Kankuro wondered what all he could accomplish if he were allowed to wander where he pleased. Then he forced himself to rejoin reality. "So you could get the attention of someone like that?"

Baki nodded. "Since Konoha is an ally, we were given a way to signal this person."

That was the crux of the whole thing, wasn't it? Konoha was an ally. Konoha was unsuspecting. Konoha had cooperated with them fully since the last war ended, which was years and years ago. The year before Temari had even been born. Kankuro knew that his parents hadn't dared to have children until the war was over. None of the people in Kankuro's generation had grown up in a world of war. They couldn't imagine being at war. Much less at war with Konoha. It was preposterous. A farce.

"Can you do it without anyone knowing?" Kankuro asked.

Baki hesitated. "We'd have to be on a long range mission. If we were out of the village, out of the village's reach, say, in Tanigakure, we would be able to signal this man without any problem."

"We'll do it, then," Kankuro said. He decided then and there: He'd do what he had to. "Tell my father that we're ready for a long range mission. That we won't screw up or get hurt this time."

"I will," Baki said.

"I don't think we should tell him about this," Kankuro said. "He's under enough stress already. He doesn't need to have to pretend to the Council that he's not allowing treason."

Baki looked troubled. "I don't know. I think we should tell Yondaime, Kankuro. He wouldn't like us to risk ourselves secretly. Not the sensei I knew. And I suspect, not the father you know, either. We need to include him."

"But what if he says no?" Kankuro whispered. He was terrified of that option; if his father actively told him no, then he wouldn't be able to try this plan in good conscience. But he couldn't just stand aside and let a war happen.

"If he says no, then we'll think of some other option," Baki said. "Between the three of us, it shouldn't be hard. I'll risk my life if necessary. Yondaime knows that."

"I don't want you to risk your life," Kankuro pointed out.

"But I do it every day." Baki gave him a gently teasing smile.

Kankuro frowned. That was technically true. They all did. But if something was really dangerous… "We should all stick together. As a team."

Baki squeezed his shoulder. "I agree."

Kankuro felt a little better.

They picked up their pace to catch up to Temari and Gaara.

**xXx**

They didn't get done cleaning the pass until well after five o'clock. Litter collection was slow going. Under normal circumstances, the pass took an hour to traverse at a steady walking pace. They had to go to the end and back, which normally would have taken two hours by itself. But for the mission, they had creep along from one end to the other, and then come back, going just as slowly as before to make sure they didn't miss anything. The mission was funded by the Wildlife Preservation Society.

Once they got back to the village, they were all hungry, sweaty, and tired. Kankuro wanted to go home and collapse. But he knew he couldn't do that; he and Baki had to talk to his father first.

After Yondaime dismissed them from the mission debriefing, Baki and Kankuro stayed behind.

"Can we talk somewhere private?" Baki asked. "I would like to update you about the progress of your children."

"Certainly." Yondaime nodded. He stood up and gestured. "Would you like to come back to my home? We could talk in the study."

Baki nodded. "That would be most agreeable."

Yondaime smiled at his son. "You would like to shower, of course."

"Yes," Kankuro said fervently.

His father chuckled. "You may, by all means, go and shower, son."

"But I'll come back to the study after I'm done," Kankuro said. "I have something to tell you."

"Alright, son." Yondaime looked curious. "You're welcome to join myself and Baki. I'm sure the progress report is not a secret. Is it?" He glanced at Baki.

Baki bowed. "No, Yondaime."

"Very well, then." Yondaime gestured. "While you're at it, you can stay for dinner."

Baki flushed, surprised. "I couldn't intrude."

"You're not intruding," Yondaime said.

A smile spread across Baki's face. "Very well, then. I would be honored to join you."

"Thank you," Yondaime said. "The honor is all mine."

_Maybe the medication is kicking in,_ Kankuro thought hopefully. _Dad seems happier, and he's even invited Baki over for dinner. Maybe we can have Baki over for dinner all the time. It'd be nice to have the company. _

They all went to the other side of the Kazekage Complex together. Kankuro let his father and Baki in the study, while he went upstairs to shower and change. He washed as quickly as possible; when he wanted to, he could get out of the shower in less than five minutes. It was just that normally, he wanted to take his time and enjoy it.

He went downstairs dressed in a fresh black uniform, wanting to appear business-like. His hair, still damp from the shower, had an auburn gleam to it. For some reason, the auburn in his hair only shone through when his hair was wet. He found that frustrating, to say the least.

Kankuro stopped in front of the door to his father's study and knocked.

"Come in," his father called.

Kankuro entered with a bow and closed the door. His father's study was all dark wood and leather furniture; it was cool, quiet, and solemn. His father stood in the middle of the room, between the desk and the leather sofa, Baki standing beside him. Apparently neither man had wanted to sit down.

"I have a topic to bring up for discussion, Otousan," Kankuro said.

"There is no need to be so formal," his father said, amused.

"There is, actually," Kankuro said. He glanced at Baki.

Baki inclined his head.

Kankuro guessed from that gesture that Baki hadn't told his father yet. Baki had waited for him.

"Dad, I asked Baki for help," Kankuro said.

"What for?" Yondaime asked.

"Kankuro told me about the war." Baki bowed.

Yondaime deflated. "Are you…very disappointed in me, Baki?"

Baki looked surprised. "Why should I be disappointed? I'm not disappointed at all, Sensei."

"I failed in the most basic way a human being can fail," Yondaime said.

"I disagree," Baki said gently. "Please, allow me to help. Kankuro suggests that we warn the Leaf through an informant. I think this is a smart idea. Our warning will be completely anonymous. You're aware of espionage on both sides during the war. This will be like that. No one will say where the information comes from; it will merely be taken as true because of the secret source. The Leaf has a traveling informant. We know how to signal him. You remember."

Yondaime swallowed, wide-eyed and still, like a rabbit. Kankuro could see his father was thinking very hard.

"We could do that," Yondaime allowed.

Kankuro wanted to collapse, and alternately jump up and down with relief.

"But we should be careful," Yondaime said.

Kankuro nodded quickly. "Baki says that if we go to Rivers, then we should be clear."

Yondaime rubbed his chin. "I think so."

"Then you'll send us there?" Kankuro asked.

"Well, it will have to be a real mission," Yondaime said.

"But there are some missions to the Land of Rivers in the next week, aren't there?" Baki said.

"They're all S-Class missions," Yondaime said. "Or A-Class. I'm not sure I feel comfortable…"

"Give us a chance," Kankuro pleaded quietly. "We'll make it through this time."

Baki said, "Their teamwork has improved. Gaara is now willing to shield the rest of us in a battle. Temari's control is better, and Kankuro has learned how to use the rest of us as distractions to successfully erect a genjutsu in the heat of the moment that won't collapse."

Those were, in a nutshell, the problems they'd encountered on their first S-Class mission. Gaara, whether by instinct or deliberation, had only shielded himself. Temari's ability to aim around objects in her way hadn't been good enough to get around the enemy's defenses. Kankuro's own ability to make a genjutsu in a pinch had turned out to be insufficient; his illusions had wavered and disappeared under the strain.

Baki had been run ragged getting them out of that situation.

"S-Class item retrieval," Yondaime said finally. "That's my only offer. Take it or leave it."

"We'll take it," Baki said with a nod.

Kankuro nodded as well. "Yeah, Dad. You can count on us."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

* * *

Dinner with Baki went well. He and Yondaime talked about the old days. Kankuro could tell his father was really pleased – and shocked – at how much Baki remembered, and how fondly.

They ended the evening on a high note, sitting in the living room and drinking a glass of plum wine each, both of them looking more relaxed than Kankuro had ever seen them. When it was time for Baki to go, and everyone went to the door to see him off, Kankuro fondly hoped that there would be a lot more evenings like this.

After everyone got ready for bed and went their separate ways, Kankuro went to his father's room, pursuing some bedtime snuggles. He didn't necessarily want to do anything sexual; he just wanted lying in each other's arms to be a regular thing.

His father accepted him gladly.

For many minutes, they lay in bed under the covers, snuggled up beside each other.

"So can Baki come over more often?" Kankuro asked. "I mean, we all like him."

"Hai." His father nodded, looking surprised. "I would welcome increased visits from Baki. I missed him; more than I think I can ever say. He was always the student I remembered most fondly from my teaching days. Bright, considerate, and ethical."

Kankuro smiled. "Great. Maybe after we come back from Rivers, we can have like a lunch or something. Because we'll have the day off…"

After S-Class missions, teams were required to take some down time. Depending on the outcome of the mission, how taxing it had been, teams could be off duty for up to a month. It was serious business, risking life or death that way. Of course, Kankuro didn't expect much to happen. It was just item retrieval. If they did their jobs properly, no one would even know they'd come and gone.

His father looked stricken.

"What's the matter?" Kankuro asked. He was instantly concerned by the change of mood.

Yondaime clung to him, wrapping his arms around Kankuro's waist and intertwining their legs. "I don't want you to go," he confessed, burying his face against Kankuro's chest. "I don't want you to go…I'm scared. I'm scared you're not going to come back, you're going to be hurt, you're going to die…"

"Nothing like that will happen," Kankuro said softly, stroking his father's hair and rubbing his father's back. He should have seen this coming, he felt. He just hadn't thought of it because from his point of view, he had to go with Baki to Rivers.

His father was trembling. "I wish I could be with you."

"I know…" Kankuro continued petting his father's head and back. "I'll be fine, though. I'll be with Baki. Don't you trust Baki?"

"I do…" His father sounded reluctantly calmer. "It's just catching up to me that you'll be gone…"

"Not gone," Kankuro corrected gently. "Somewhere else. Somewhere else is not the same thing as gone. I'm coming back. I'm not leaving. Think of it this way: I'm en route to you."

His father looked up at him.

Kankuro kissed his father's forehead. "Everything is going to be okay."

"I want to do everything," Yondaime blurted.

Kankuro was surprised and confused. "What? What do you mean?"

"I want to go all the way," Yondaime said.

Kankuro stared at him. "You…" His lips moved silently. "What?" He couldn't be hearing his father right. It couldn't mean what he thought it meant.

Yondaime squeezed him and whispered, "I want to feel what it's like to have you inside of me."

Kankuro had to restrain himself from jumping out of the bed in pure shock. _Whoa! Holy shit!_

That jammed their whole situation into perspective pretty suddenly. His father's scared rabbit reaction in the beginning, his father's arousal at being touched, the fascination with femininity… "You want to be on the bottom," Kankuro said, his heart racing.

His father curled up against him, looking uncertain and wary. "Yes…"

Kankuro stared at him. _He thinks I'm going to die, and he wants to go all the way before I leave. This is pretty serious stuff._

"But…I thought…" Kankuro couldn't find the words. He shook his head slowly. "You're the dad. So…" Then he realized he was going about this all wrong. His father couldn't do it. Because of what his grandfather had done to his dad. His dad couldn't be on top.

His father was frozen, looking at him with wide eyes.

Kankuro stroked his father's cheek. "I'm sorry. I understand. I just needed to think about it for a moment." He was going to have his first time with his dad…as the person on top. It gave him shivers. He wasn't sure if they were shivers of anticipation or nervousness or what. Maybe a little of both.

"You…you do?" Yondaime asked.

Kankuro kissed his lips gently. "I do. You have to do it this way." He pulled his father close to him again and hugged his father tightly. "I'm very open to your needs. But at some point…after we go all the way with me in charge…I want you to be in charge, too. I want to feel how it feels to be the one with you inside of me."

His father looked awed. "I will…"

Kankuro smiled and kissed his father with a little more passion, mouthing his father's lips. He sucked on his father's upper lip gently.

His father opened his mouth, panting, and gently pulled Kankuro's tongue into his mouth. He sucked on it slowly, trading caresses, and then pulled back. Tears slowly slid down his cheeks. "Everything is about necessity," he whispered. "I hate it."

"Necessity?" Kankuro stroked his father's hair slowly.

Yondaime nodded. "Necessity. Necessity that Karura allow herself to be part of a sealing ceremony when Gaara was still in the womb. Necessity that Gaara should be saddled with Shukaku. Necessity that I should concentrate Gaara's rage on me instead of allowing him to find targets within the village. Necessity that I should allow my children to become ninjas, become targets, become casualties, become soldiers in a war –" By the end he was yelling, and tears rolled down his cheeks steadily.

Kankuro was horrified. His brain was overloaded by all of the information. "You mean…Gaara hates you on purpose?"

"I can't let him pick out of the population, can I?" Yondaime exclaimed, sounding wildly panicked. "Not everyone can defend themselves the way I can! If I let him hate me, then he doesn't take out his rage on Council members, or civilians, or people –" He gave himself the hiccups and stopped talking, pale and flushed at the same time.

Kankuro didn't know what to do. He stroked his father's cheeks and wiped away his father's tears. "I love you…I love you so much. You shouldn't be hated. We should correct your reputation."

"I can't!" Yondaime looked at him in agony. "As long as Gaara believes it was all my fault for everything that's happened, he won't try to attack anyone else."

Kankuro hated the logic in that. He hated that it was logical at all. He stroked his father's cheeks, cupping his father's face. "Well, I will always love you and see you for who you are." He pressed a kiss to his father's lips.

"I'm scared," his father whispered. "I'm so scared. I'm scared you're going to die like Karura did. You're not supposed to die. She's not supposed to die."

Kankuro understood then how the situations appeared to be parallel. He stroked his father's hair. "But I'm not going to die," he said softly, giving his father a small smile. "It's not the same situation at all. I'll have Baki. And Temari, and Gaara. We're a team. Childbearing isn't a team. Not when it comes down to the last part. Mom had to do that on her own. And so things could go wrong, that you didn't have time to correct for…but this is different. Mom is not me. I am not her. We're two separate people. And I can succeed. I can come back to you safe and sound."

He rocked his father gently until his father fell asleep.

**xXx**

His father seemed alright the next day. He certainly smiled, and though there was a trace of uncertainty whenever he looked at Kankuro, he didn't seem panicked about the prospect of the upcoming mission anymore. Kankuro had to hope that the medication, and a good night's rest, was taking effect. His father slept more soundly and reported greater energy since taking the sleeping medication.

Today, he and his team did combat drills, preparing for the S-Class mission. It was item retrieval, but S-Class item retrieval meant that the client felt an enemy team of shinobi had been dispatched to secure the item for somebody else. In other words, two shinobi teams fighting for the same prize. One of them doomed to lose. Ninjas did not take losing well, so Kankuro and his team wanted to be prepared.

He and Temari went all-out against each other, which was actually pretty fun. Gaara sparred with Baki, since Baki was better able to handle Gaara's power level. Kankuro noticed that while his brother's reaction times were quick, his style was too defensive; always at an opening, Gaara would block rather than attack. His brother didn't take any chances, didn't advance through the battle quickly. Gaara's tactic seemed to be a war of attrition that solely relied on his superior chakra reserves.

That made Kankuro a little worried for Gaara's success in the Chuunin Exam, before he reminded himself that there wasn't going to be a real Chuunin Exam at all. _And if it looks like we can't stop the war, Father wouldn't let us go to Konoha anyway._ That was abundantly clear from his father's freak-out last night. _He's way too sensitive about Mom's death, still. _

**xXx**

They got back from the cliffs, where the most remote training grounds were – always a good choice when allowing Gaara to use more power – and collected their father, going home for dinner. Kankuro felt pretty good about how his day had gone. He had that pleasant after-workout feeling, his muscles all stretched out and relaxed. Before going down to dinner, he soaked in the tub for ten minutes, making sure to treat his body right after such an intense sparring session.

Dinner was normal, and everyone was in good spirits, even Gaara. His brother was just as quiet as ever, but at least he wasn't scowling. Draining off some of Shukaku's excess chakra seemed to do wonders to lift his spirits. Kankuro made a mental note to ask Baki to spar with Gaara more often. His brother needed all the help and attention Baki could give.

By silent agreement, he met his father in his father's bedroom after everyone was settled down for the night. When Kankuro came in, his father was standing by the bed.

"What's up, Dad?" Kankuro asked curiously.

Yondaime flushed, lingering uncertainly by the bed instead of coming to greet him. "I still want to do it."

Kankuro felt a bit warmer at that, but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions. "Do what?"

His father looked at the floor shyly, and then smiled at him. "I still want to go all the way. If you do."

A pulse of heat shot through Kankuro, making him half hard. His erection tingled. "Yeah," he stammered.

Yondaime's smile grew. "Okay." He slowly, carefully, got undressed.

Kankuro flushed. This was like being treated to a strip show, even though his father was being modest about it.

Once he disrobed, his father crossed the room to him. Kankuro could see for once all the innate grace and the lithe muscles that went into such an action. He was wide-eyed by the time his father reached him.

His father pressed against him coyly, stroking his neck with gentle fingertips. "Do you want me to undress you?"

Kankuro nodded, mute and hard. He'd never expected his father to be so seductive about it. _But I guess he wants to make this special_. Kankuro could appreciate that. It was special. Very special. His first time…His first time with anyone would be special, much less with the person he loved most out of the entire world.

Yondaime slid his hands up underneath Kankuro's baggy black t-shirt, stroking up Kankuro's torso.

Kankuro shivered and raised his arms, licking his lips reflexively.

His father lifted his shirt off and then nuzzled his neck, kissing his way down the center of Kankuro's chest. His hands slid down Kankuro's sides, coming to rest on the band of Kankuro's black cargo pants.

Kankuro moaned, his head falling back.

His father gently trailed his hands down the front of Kankuro's pants, stroking Kankuro's erection through his clothes. Kankuro pressed into the touch faintly and spread his legs a little more. He'd never felt more turned on, more graceful or beautiful. His father's hands made him intimately aware of the smallness, the desirability of his own body.

Yondaime unzipped Kankuro's pants and gently pulled them down. Kankuro shifted with his father, helping. He stepped out of his pants and sucked in his breath. His skin felt flushed, and his head was spinning – the feeling of blood coursing down lower. He spread his legs, adopting a wider stance, and moaned. "Tousan…"

His father flushed deeply and petted his erection through his boxers, rubbing the material against Kankuro's wet tip and creating a damp spot right away. Kankuro squirmed. "Okay. Off. I want them off. Please."

Yondaime complied, pulling Kankuro's boxers down, carefully making sure they cleared Kankuro's erection in front.

Kankuro noticed that his father was hard, too. "Oh, god. You're so beautiful…" He didn't think he could explain to people how beautiful his father was, not even with a hundred portraits.

His father smiled at him, looking pleased. "Thank you." He brushed Kankuro's hair back from his forehead and planted a kiss there. "You're beautiful, too, son."

Kankuro shifted happily, his cheeks flushing. He felt warm inside that he could honestly believe his father this time. He knew his father had been trying to tell him that.

His father stroked his bared erection gently. "Make love to me."

Kankuro shivered. "Hai." He didn't know how, but he figured his father would explain it. In the manga he'd read, it looked difficult. Sometimes he thought the artist had probably made up the position, because it didn't look like it made any sense. He took a deep breath. _Well, now I'll find out how it's done for real._

His father led him over to the bed, where they sat down and embraced. Kankuro snuggled against his father appreciatively, taking comfort from the feeling of hot skin against skin. He rubbed his father's nipples with one hand, gently teasing.

Yondaime moaned. He reached out and opened the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out the bottle of lubrication. "Lubrication," he murmured. "Lots of it. That's the first step."

Kankuro nodded, and pulled his father down on the bed, kissing and squirming until he was halfway on top of his father. His father arched underneath him. "Ooh, you like that," he teased.

Yondaime panted, flushed, and looked up at Kankuro with utter seriousness. "Yes. I like being pinned underneath you."

That made a pulse of heat go through Kankuro, making his erection jump and leak. "Oh, god. You are sexy."

"You are sexy, too," his father whispered, and pulled him down for a kiss, winding his arms around Kankuro's neck gently.

They squirmed against each other, kissing until they were both out of breath, their lips tender and tingling. Kankuro sat up, straddling his father's hips, and rubbed his father's nipples gently, hands splayed across his father's chest, rubbing the rosy nubs with his thumbs.

His father moaned, back arching, and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Kankuro took the lubrication from where his father had set it on the bed and uncapped it, smearing strawberry scented oil on his father's nipples. He figured he should start with that, since his father liked it so much. He rubbed the massage oil and lubrication in, mock massaging his father's chest – he would have given a real massage, but he didn't know how. Then he leaned down and lapped up the lubrication, moaning and the combination of his father's heated skin and the sweet, fruit and coconut taste. He licked his father clean, teasing both nipples in the process.

His father moaned and squirmed underneath him, uttering encouragements in a husky whisper.

By the time he was finished, Kankuro could feel that they were both hot, hard, and leaking. "Are you ready?" he whispered.

Yondaime nodded, uttering another moan before he could speak. "I'm going to…roll over and you…are going to take this lubrication and…get it on your fingers." He took a deep breath.

Kankuro obediently climbed off of his father so that his father could roll over.

His father did so, bringing himself up on his hands and knees. "You're going to…rub me until you can slip a finger into me, and then repeat until you can stroke me from the inside with three of your fingers. Then we're ready."

The process was nerve-wracking, and Kankuro wasn't sure it was sexy until he found a place inside of his father that made his father cry out and spread his legs. Then Kankuro relaxed in a warm rush, leaking steadily onto the sheets.

When he got to the point of slipping three fingers in and out of his father's body, his father moaned deeply and pressed back with every gentle thrust. Kankuro tingled all over. "Are you ready? Are you ready for me to put myself inside you?"

Yondaime nodded. "Hai…oh, hai." The words were dragged out, wrapped inside of a moan.

Kankuro felt a moan rumble in his own chest in response. _Oh, god._ "How do I…is there a special way I can do this?"

"Kankuro, I'm going to sit back on you," his father said, husky and breathless. "It's the easiest way. Get into a sitting position and help guide me by holding my hips steady. Okay?"

Kankuro nodded, wide-eyed. Adrenaline coursed through his body. "Okay." He sat cross-legged and took his father's hips gently.

His father slowly, gracefully sat down on his lap, sliding down on his erection until full seated. A final squirm, and his father was resting in his lap. Deeply penetrated.

Kankuro's erection throbbed and leaked, and his heartbeat went crazy. For a few moments, he thought he was going to come. Then he took a few breaths and tightened his muscles in some instinctive way, holding himself back. He let out a long, low moan. "Tousan…"

His father leaned back against him, shivering and gasping faintly. "Kankuro…you feel so sweet inside me. So sweet…so…" He moaned.

Kankuro slipped his arms around his father's waist, struck by how he could cradle his father on his lap, embrace his father and snuggle, at the same time that they did this thing.

He shifted, involuntarily pressing his hips up against his father's bottom, and stroked up his father's chest, feeling compact muscles, sweaty skin. They were both sweating. It felt so good. Like their skin was alive; shimmering and alive. He stroked his father's nipples, caressing with his fingers in loose swirls.

His father pressed back against him and moaned.

Kankuro rested his face against the back of his father's shoulder, kissing sweet, salty skin, and continued to stroke and caress his father's nipples. He barely noticed that his hips were rocking gently, slowly. It felt so natural, the movement. Their bodies rolled together, in sync together. In pleasure together.

He licked and lapped his father's shoulder and neck, overcome by the throbbing heat of his erection, his father's lithe body in his arms and on his lap. The way his father's nipples felt harder and harder. His ears filled with the sound of soft moans and panting breaths.

Kankuro had never felt something so incredible. He was lost in it, completely wrapped up in it; the air was like feathers against his skin. His father's body all around him, surging feelings of primal contentment washed through Kankuro. All he could feel was his father. It was like falling for an eternity.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

Two days later, their father officially announced their mission. He sat behind his desk in the Kazekage office, hands folded, expression solemn. Every bit the Kazekage. "You are to retrieve the Hachiman Scroll for our client. The scroll contains important techniques in ninjutsu and taijutsu, is the ancient treasure of the temple of Hachiman in the Karakaze Valley, and has been missing for fifty years. It has turned up in the Land of Rivers in Nutano, outside of Tanigakure."

The Karakaze Valley, or Valley of Dry Winds, was north of here, in an unforgiving stretch of desert. One of the only places to seek shelter was the temple of Hachiman. Hachiman was an ancient god of war. There were many such figures in history. Though most agreed that the Sage of Six Paths had created the world, after that event, all the nations had their own tales of what befell their people. In the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth, there was shared folklore about many warring gods; common wisdom held that this was actually a metaphor for the people who managed to control tailed beasts, either as jinchuuriki, or as spirits trapped in vessels, like the tea kettle currently in Suna's possession.

Hachiman, then, was a warrior who possessed a tailed beast. Even if the scroll did not literally belong to Hachiman, it was a powerful image to describe the techniques held within.

Kankuro absorbed this mission silently. "Sounds pretty dangerous." _No wonder he didn't want us going._

Yondaime shrugged. "The scroll is little known. Only a few parties are interested. In addition, the client assures us that only he knows that the scroll rests in Nutano. You should be able to infiltrate the village and take the scroll."

_So we're not buying it,_ Kankuro noted. _That means the person who has it isn't selling, or they're not aware it's of value and the client doesn't want to alert them._

"Who is currently in possession of the scroll?" Baki asked.

"A shopkeeper by the name of Kawasu Nou," Yondaime said. "He is a bookseller. Information gathering reveals that he received the scroll in a shipment from the Land of Rain. He does not know what he possesses."

_Well, that answers that question._ Kankuro shifted, feeling the reassuring weight of Karasu on his back. "Let's go, then. The sooner we get this scroll back, the better."

Yondaime nodded. "Indeed."

"So what's this scroll look like?" Temari asked, propping her hand on her hip.

"Good question," Kankuro said.

Their father answered, "The Scroll of Hachiman is cream colored, with crimson caps on the ends. It has no tassels. Also, it has the kanji for the temple of Hachiman on it." Yondaime swiftly wrote the kanji down.

Baki collected the strip of paper with a bow. He showed it to everyone. In their father's neat handwriting was 八幡宮 in black ink. "This is what we're looking for." Baki stowed the scrap of paper in a pocket of his vest. "In case you forget, just ask, and I will show it to you again."

Temari nodded. "Hai."

"Got it," Kankuro said. He thought he'd remember, but he appreciated the sentiment. It wouldn't do to screw up.

Gaara merely looked bored.

**xXx**

Temari and Gaara took point as they traveled across the desert. Gaara could smooth their way with his command of the sand, and if they headed into any storms, Temari could clear the weather with her fan. Unlike Baki, whose chakra formed naturally into sharp, cutting forms, Temari's natural chakra form was broad. Clearing a storm was actually easier for her than using a technique like wind scythe.

Kankuro, as usual, took up the rear with Baki. As puppet master, he was always in the back of the group, away from the danger and protected by the team captain.

"Will this mission be sufficient to help us get the message off to Konoha's informant?" Kankuro whispered to Baki.

Baki nodded. He murmured, "We need to get into the outskirts of Tanigakure to send our message. This mission brings us close enough that we won't have to waste much extra time. The mission itself should be simple. I suggest we use your puppet to infiltrate the bookseller's shop."

"Good idea," Kankuro agreed. Using Karasu remotely really was the safest method. And unless someone had the ability to see raw chakra – a rare ability for a non-shinobi – then Karasu should be undetectable.

**xXx**

They crossed the border like whispers and traveled deep into the night. When they reached the tiny village of Nutano, it was around three o'clock in the morning. Earlier, as they traveled through the wilderness, their way had been lit by moonlight. Now, the night was overcast, clouds hanging over the moon like a curtain, granting them privacy. The village was hushed.

With practiced ease, they crept from rooftop to rooftop, more silent and graceful than cats. The housecats out prowling for a bit of evening amusement didn't even know they were there; they moved without disturbing the air.

Kankuro found the bookseller's shop and effortlessly infiltrated the building. It was a storefront with a storage room in back. One of the windows wasn't even latched. Using his jutsu, Kankuro saw through Karasu's eyes. He scanned the shelves messily crammed with unsold wares, sifting through them with deft wooden fingers. It took him a harrowing, breath-holding fifteen minutes, but he found the scroll they were after. He saw the kanji 八幡宮 stamped right across it. Karasu put the scroll in his mouth and crept out the way he'd come, retrieving the scroll to the waiting team on the rooftop. He deposited the scroll into Kankuro's waiting hand.

At that, Kankuro allowed himself a smirk. He handed over the Scroll of Hachiman to Baki for safekeeping, and off they went.

Baki found them a place to stay with warm beds, just outside of Tanigakure. They rested there until early afternoon, sleeping off their journey.

**xXx**

When they woke, Baki paid for a breakfast, and they headed out to get into Tanigakure. They weren't at war with Tani, so after a security check to make sure their faces weren't in any bingo books as missing nin, they were allowed to enter.

Baki took them twenty minutes inside the village borders, to a small roadside marketplace where farmers gathered.

Kankuro was curious; Baki hadn't explained anything about how to get a hold of the informant. Only that Yondaime knew how, and presumably Baki did too.

Baki approached an old man selling tomatoes and turnips. He wore a humble brown yukata with a length of rope for an obi. His face was creased with friendly wrinkles, and he was bald, his scalp dotted with age spots.

Kankuro noticed the rickety wooden sign of the man's produce stand: 生野菜! And a crude painting of a smiling frog. The sign only said 'fresh vegetables'. Kankuro hung back with his siblings, folding his arms.

Baki went up to where the old man sat amongst his crates of produce and bowed respectfully. "Do you have any advice for me, Ojiisan?" It was common to call all old men 'Ojiisan' as a form of polite address. 'Ojiisan' meant 'grandfather'.

The man looked up at him in surprise, and then laughed gently. "Well, I would only say that one should spare no effort while one is young; heavy work in youth is quiet rest in old age." He gestured to his produce stand. "You see me, I am not so lucky." He grinned.

"Ah." Baki smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Ojiisan. I will remember that."

Kankuro raised an eyebrow. The old man had done nothing more than repeat a common platitude. _Is this a code or something?_

"Well, I am young, but not so young," Baki said.

The old man nodded and laughed again. "True, true. None of us are as young as we once were."

"I remember the chestnut trees from my youth," Baki said. "They are very beautiful, aren't they? I would love to sit under a chestnut tree again. Are there any chestnut trees around here, Ojiisan?"

"Oh, yes, there is a very old chestnut tree out that way." The old man smiled and pointed down the dirt path. "On the outskirts of the village. He is a very lucky tree."

Baki bowed. "Thank you."

He turned to the rest of the team and smiled. "Well, let's go."

Temari and Kankuro exchanged looks. Gaara looked uncomfortably puzzled.

They walked down the dirt path, leading them into the pleasant countryside; grass and rolling hills, a wooden fence marking the border of a farm.

"Why are we here?" Gaara asked.

"I need to speak to an old friend," Baki said. "It is very important and not merely a social call, I assure you."

Gaara frowned.

"What was with that weird conversation with the grocery seller?" Temari asked.

Baki grinned.

Kankuro snorted. "It's a code, right? To be instructions to the place where you can send the message?"

"Right," Baki agreed.

They walked another ten minutes in silence. Baki caught sight of a chestnut tree standing alone in a field and left the dirt trail, cutting across the grassy hills to reach it.

Once they were standing underneath the old chestnut tree, Baki looked around with a smile and asked, "I can hear the song of the frog, can't you?"

"I don't hear any frog," Gaara said quietly.

A voice called from up in the tree, "I'm not a frog, I'm a toad!"

Temari whipped around and fell over with a small shriek. There was a toad sitting in the 'Y' where the two major branches of the tree split off from the main trunk.

Baki bowed. "My apologies, Gama-san." He straightened. "Are you Taniguku?"

"I am," the toad said.

"Would you be so kind as to tell your fellow toad sentries that we need to speak to Jiraiya?" Baki asked. "We have important news."

The toad bowed his head in return. "I will, indeed." He let out a peculiar, warbling croak-ribbit.

Another toad popped into existence with a puff of smoke. "Hai!"

Taniguku didn't waste time. "Pipa, will you tell Tsunotokage to contact Hikigaeru? The man needs to speak to Jiraiya-sama, and quickly. Time-sensitive information."

"Yes," Baki called up to them. "Very. The sooner this word reaches Jiraiya, the better."

"Right away, Oniisama." Pipa popped out of existence the way she'd come.

"It is done," Taniguku said formally.

"Thank you, Taniguku-san," Baki said.

"I cannot guarantee that Jiraiya-sama will arrive here today," Taniguku said. "However, I can tell you that the Sannin has ways to reach somewhere quickly. We will not have to wait long."

Baki bowed. "That is good. Thank you."

"Would you mind telling us what is going on?" Temari asked.

Baki turned to her. "We are stopping a war. Or at least warning our allies."

"Oh," Temari said.

"Oi," Taniguku said. "Are you going to stand underneath my tree all day?"

Baki sat down on the grass cross-legged and folded his arms across his chest. "We'll wait here for Jiraiya to arrive."

"Here?" Taniguku stared down at Baki in surprise.

"Mm-hmm." Baki nodded.

Taniguku looked worried. "It could rain."

"We'll get wet," Baki said calmly.

Taniguku thought about that. "Jiraiya-sama better hurry."

"What's the big deal?" Temari asked the toad.

Taniguku shifted uncomfortably. "I like my privacy."

Temari snorted.

"And standing out in this field attracts too much attention," Gaara intoned.

"Exactly," Taniguku agreed hastily.

Kankuro decided to sit down beside Baki and wait. Eventually, Temari settled down and leaned against the tree, and Gaara took up a perch in the tree, ignoring Taniguku's protests. "Share," was all Gaara said.

It was actually kind of cute.

Kankuro murmured to Baki, "When do you think Jiraiya will show up?"

"I don't know," Baki murmured in return. "I suspect that he will not take more than six hours to get here, though. Three or four is his average time. But I don't know how far away he is right now."

"You've worked with him before," Kankuro said. Not a question.

Baki nodded, and allowed himself an amused smile. "I have contacted Jiraiya in the past."

Kankuro wondered what the joke was.

**xXx**

After the first couple hours, Kankuro found himself daydreaming and sketching a new puppet design in his portable art book. In the back of his mind, he knew they were waiting for something, but sitting in a nice, sunny field underneath a tree was too relaxing to worry about anything.

A puff of smoke and a surge of strong chakra interrupted his thoughts. Kankuro scrambled to his feet and put away his sketch pad and pencil.

A tall man with wild white hair in a long ponytail appeared through the smoke. He wore a red haori with a white swirling design on the hem and a white kimono underneath. "I have arrived," he said solemnly.

Kankuro was amazed. _This guy is just as tall as Baki. _That was saying something. Baki was over six feet tall.

Baki stood as well, gracefully unfolding and straightening in one fluid movement. "I can see that," he said mildly.

The man blinked, thrown off-balance by that remark. Then he did a double take. "Hey, you didn't tell me it was an Akagizume," Jiraiya protested to his toad summons.

"You didn't ask me," Taniguku said. "I don't even know what that is."

"My clan from Suna," Jiraiya said.

"Suna doesn't have clans," Taniguku said.

"Yes, they do," Jiraiya retorted.

"We do," Baki said. "We simply don't have clan names. There would be nothing to call ourselves or explain our relationships by if we did not have some form of clan system. As it is, our clan system is looser and less rigid than Konoha's; anyone can be of a clan if they join. It's more like a gang system, except without the crime." He smiled wryly. "Mostly."

Jiraiya laughed and crossed the distance between them, giving Baki a back-thumping hug. "Which one are you? Whose son?"

"Well, obviously my grandfather was Baiji," Baki said. He smirked.

"Yeah," Jiraiya said. "I got that. And mine was his brother, Raiji."

"Baiji and Raiji," Kankuro murmured. _People who give their kids similar names for no reason give me a headache. _

Baki caught his look. "Twins. Our grandfathers were twins."

Kankuro froze for a moment in shock. "Oh." That made more sense out of the matching names.

"Yeah." Jiraiya grinned. "Our names are a little more distinctive these days. But our families both kept the first kanji of our grandparents' names, and we stick them somewhere in the name of each new baby: Ba (馬) for them –" He pointed at Baki. " – and Rai (雷) for us." He thumped his chest with his thumb.

That prideful gesture made Kankuro want to laugh. _This guy is something else._

"Indeed," Baki said, smiling. "My father is Bashi, by the way."

"No way!" Jiraiya looked at him in amazement. "So you're the son of the head of the clan?"

"Yup." Baki nodded.

"Awesome!" Jiraiya scratched the back of his head and grimaced sheepishly. "Well, as you know, it's just me now." He shrugged.

"I know," Baki said sympathetically. "That's why we try to keep in contact with you every year for the holidays, at least."

Kankuro had to admit to himself that he didn't see a resemblance between his teacher and the Sannin. But then, they were second cousins. The only similarity they really had was clan history and red markings on their faces. Though Kankuro suspected Jiraiya's were painted on instead of tattooed.

"Well…" Jiraiya looked awkward suddenly. "You said you had some information for me?"

"Oh. Yes." Baki nodded. "We're going to war. Thought you should know."

Jiraiya rubbed his chin. "With Iwa? Yes, I saw all the signs. But thank you for telling me."

Temari sighed and crossed her arms behind her head. She looked away and frowned.

"Not with Iwa," Baki said succinctly. "With Konoha. Though against the Kazekage's wishes. We're here on behalf of Yondaime to warn you and uphold the treaty."

"Wow," Jiraiya said. He blinked. "Government snafu."

"Unfortunately," Baki said.

Jiraiya scratched his head. "So you want me to warn Sarutobi?"

Baki stared at him.

Jiraiya smacked his forehead. "Right. You don't know him by name. Sandaime. Right? You want me to warn Sandaime."

"Sandaime Hokage's name is Sarutobi?" Kankuro murmured.

"Yeah," Jiraiya said. "I know that 'cause he's my sensei."

"Oh, wow…" Kankuro looked from Jiraiya to Baki. "So you guys really are alike. Baki is Yondaime's student."

Jiraiya grinned. "Is he, now?"

"Yup," Baki said.

"That's pretty awesome," Jiraiya said.

"I think so," Baki said. "That's why I'm willing to do anything for him. That includes a willingness to commit small-scale treason if it prevents a larger war."

"Yeah, I don't get what those council guys are thinking," Jiraiya said. "A war between Konoha and Suna would only pull in the other nations. We're the two most powerful ones. If we go at it, everyone's going to be involved."

Kankuro's eyes widened.

"You know, I didn't even think of that," Baki said. "I was more concerned with the pressing issue: preventing the attack on the Chuunin Exam. That's where the Council intends to strike, and it's unconscionable. The first casualties will all be children."

"Strike at the youth," Jiraiya muttered. "They're the future."

"This kind of thing is why we get a reputation for being heartless," Kankuro said dryly, unamused.

"This stinks," Jiraiya said. "Everyone thinks you're going to go to war with Iwa. There's no reason to pick Konoha as a target over Iwa. Someone must be spearheading this decision."

Baki nodded. "We're going to try to figure that out. In the meantime, we thought we should warn you. Betraying the Council is one thing, but betraying an allied nation is another."

Jiraiya nodded. "I appreciate it. I'll relay the information right away." He glanced up in the tree. "Taniguku."

"Yes, Jiraiya-sama!" Taniguku saluted with a webbed hand.

"Please relay this message in code," Jiraiya said. "Kazekage warns of Council treachery. Prepare for Chuunin Exam invasion. Jiraiya out."

Taniguku nodded. A tiny scroll appeared with a puff of smoke, along with a brush. He wrote down the message, then handed it off to a subordinate toad, who disappeared with the message tied to his back.

Kankuro was surprised with the efficiency. "That's it?"

"Well, no," Jiraiya said. He rubbed his chin. "I think it's best if I go with you."

"Where?" Kankuro asked.

"Back to your village," Jiraiya said. "I want to check something out."

"That seems unnecessary," Gaara said from his perch in the tree. He hadn't moved or reacted to Jiraiya's presence before now, merely waiting and watching them.

"Don't argue with one of the Sannin's hunches," Baki said. "He knows much more about the underlying currents of power in the world than we do. If he thinks something is up, it's probably up. And it's up to him to check it out. So let him do his job. He's an ally."

Gaara nodded and fell silent.

Temari scratched her head. "How are we going to explain his presence, though?"

Jiraiya grinned. "I go wherever I want to. You don't have anything to do with why I'm coming to Suna. It's all my idea. For my next book."

"Book?" Temari stared at him.

"I'm a writer," Jiraiya said. "A novelist, of only the highest caliber." He crossed his arms. "Don't let anybody tell you different."

Temari looked at him dubiously, as if put on guard by that very statement.

Kankuro grinned, amused. He had no idea what Jiraiya wrote or if it was any good. He just thought the man was entertaining. "Okay, then." He looked to Baki. "Does that mean our mission is completed?"

Baki nodded. "Indeed it does. Move out, team. We're going home." He glanced at Jiraiya. "You can tag along if you want to, Jiraiya-sama," he said courteously.

Jiraiya laughed. "Thank you, Baki-sama."

Baki rolled his eyes at that honorific.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

* * *

They got back to Suna in the afternoon of the next day, traveling all night to make it. Kankuro's relief upon entering his father's office was nothing compared to his father's relief upon seeing them.

"Kankuro!" Yondaime flew from his seat and wrapped Kankuro in a tight hug. Then he turned and pulled in Temari. "Temari…" He kissed her cheek. Then he hesitated when it came to Gaara.

Gaara raised an eyebrow.

Yondaime opened his arms.

Gaara stood still and stared.

Yondaime sighed. "Please?"

Gaara reluctantly shuffled into his father's arms.

Yondaime hugged Gaara and rocked him gently.

Gaara suddenly looked as if he was about to cry.

Baki cleared his throat. "There's one more."

"Hm?" Yondaime looked up from Gaara. "What?"

"One more than usual," Baki said. He gestured.

Jiraiya stood in the doorway, a stunned look of longing frozen on his face at the family scene for a moment, before he realized everyone was looking at him. He put on a smile. "Hi."

"Come in here," Baki said, crossing the room and dragging Jiraiya inside by the arm. "Don't stand there and stare. You're part of this, too."

Jiraiya worked his arm free of Baki's grasp and bowed. "Konnichiwa, Kazekage-sama."

"So respectful," Yondaime said, amused. Kankuro caught a mischievous glint in his father's eyes. "You may rise."

Jiraiya straightened. "Thank you for your information, Kazekage-sama. The message has been sent to Hokage-sama in Konoha. I have no doubt he will prepare for the possible invasion attempt."

"Yes, yes," Yondaime said dismissively. Kankuro noted that his father's relief still ran high; he was unusually relaxed, leaning back in his chair. "That doesn't explain why you are here."

"Nothing adds up, Kazekage-sama," Jiraiya said. "I want to work out the cause of this sudden decision to attack Konoha."

Yondaime gestured. "By all means."

"Who can I trust in this village to give me information?" Jiraiya asked.

"Not many," Yondaime said. "Outside of this room…none. Except for Baki's family. Even they – the most removed cousins and such – will have to be carefully screened. No family stands together completely when it comes to politics."

Jiraiya bowed. "I understand, Kazekage-sama."

"This is serious," Kankuro commented. It was one thing to think so privately, and another to talk openly of information gathering against a conspiracy to break a treaty, with a Sannin's help.

"I should get started right away," Jiraiya said. He started making seals for a teleportation jutsu.

Yondaime held up a hand. "Wait a minute."

Jiraiya paused. "Yes?"

"Where are you staying?" Yondaime asked.

"I figured I'd just camp out," Jiraiya said.

"Nonsense," Yondaime said. "You're visiting your relatives. You're staying with Baki from now on."

Jiraiya bowed. "Yes, Kazekage-sama."

Baki didn't react. He looked as impassive as ever.

Kankuro found that suspicious. He also found it interesting that Jiraiya apparently hadn't been planning on visiting his only living relatives. Or imposing on them for a place to stay. Visiting relatives were always offered hospitality, even if one had never met them before. It was part of Suna and Konoha's shared cultural etiquette. It would have been perfectly acceptable for Jiraiya to show up at Baki's family home asking for a place to stay.

_Maybe he doesn't want to get them involved because the work he's here to do is dangerous,_ Kankuro thought. But he doubted it. Judging by the look he'd seen on Jiraiya's face, family was a painful subject. _Or lack thereof. He said he's an orphan. That must suck. _

Kankuro knew that as a single parent household, he and his siblings were only one step away from being orphaned. All their other relatives were dead except for Chiyo and Ebizo, and they were recluses. Kankuro had a hard time imagining they'd allow him and his siblings to live in their cave, or that they would move back to Suna to take care of kids they hardly knew.

"Now may I go?" Jiraiya asked, smiling wryly. "Now that you've assigned me a place to stay?"

Yondaime chuckled. "Yes."

Jiraiya teleported out.

Baki shook his head. "That one is tough to handle."

"I find him malleable enough," Yondaime said.

"You could bend steel," Baki said.

Yondaime grinned.

Kankuro took in the still-rare expression, and found hope that things were improving. Even with a conspiracy afoot.

**xXx**

After the Scroll of Hachiman was safely put away for the client to recover, everyone went home. Kankuro knew that they were all probably eager to shower, eat a good lunch, and relax. Temari went over to a friend's house, and Gaara holed himself up in one of his many secret hiding places, meditating to restore his energy and balance.

Kankuro went down to the basement after his shower and visited his puppet workshop. He always made sure he had plenty of busywork to do. Busywork distracted him from any unpleasant facts of life.

He'd managed to convince their father to come home early as well, something Yondaime agreed to so easily that Kankuro thought his father must not have been sleeping well.

Though he surrounded himself with blueprints and spare puppet parts, thoughts about his father crept in; mostly worry. Some of them recollections of the sexy things they'd done.

Kankuro found himself unable to wait until after dinner. He knew his father was most likely having private time as prescribed by the therapist, but having the day off due to completing an S-Rank mission made him antsy. There was only so long he could fiddle around with fixing or modifying his puppets.

He went upstairs and knocked on his father's door. "Dad? Are you okay? Are you busy?"

"Come in," Yondaime said. "I dislike talking through the door. And I'm not busy."

Kankuro let himself in and shut the door behind him.

His father was still dressed in his black martial arts coat from the office. He looked a little pale, and a little as though he'd been crying. Kankuro noticed a leather-bound book on his father's pillow; probably the journal his father was keeping.

_Writing makes him cry?_ Kankuro wondered. "What's up, Dad?" he asked aloud.

"Did you miss me?" Yondaime asked softly. He walked silently from the nightstand to Kankuro, wrapping his arms around his son gently. "Because I missed you." He kissed Kankuro softly and slowly, mouthing Kankuro's lips as if reacquainting himself with their touch.

Kankuro found it almost unbearably sexy. He closed his eyes and mouthed his father's lips in return, tracing his father's lips with his tongue and brushing his fingers through his father's auburn hair. "I missed you so much," Kankuro said, realizing he'd missed his father so much, in fact, he'd blocked the feeling out. He did that when his feelings got too intense. It was part of his training as a shinobi. These days, he did it without thinking.

His father stroked his cheek and rested their foreheads together, closing his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Kankuro said, and hesitated. "Did it feel good for you, Dad? When we did it?" He knew they'd spent a long time afterwards snuggling and talking, and his father had said it was good. As good as Kankuro had felt it was. But now his father had time to think about it. What if the answer was different?

"Yes," his father said, stroking Kankuro's cheek. He kissed Kankuro gently. "Yes, it was. It was very good. I would think that…" He shivered. "…would you had died…I still…"

Kankuro pressed a firm kiss to his father's lips to stop the words, delving his tongue into his father's mouth with tender insistence. He moaned, cupping his father's face with both hands. After trading caresses for a few minutes, he pulled away and said breathlessly, "None of that. I'll do that with you every day if it will make you stop thinking that. I'm never leaving. I'm never leaving. I'm always just coming back."

His father hugged him tightly.

Kankuro hugged back, and realized they were both hard. He could feel their hardness pressing against each other. He shifted his hips experimentally.

His father moaned. His head fell back, his mouth falling open.

"Oh…" Kankuro smiled slyly. He stroked his hands up his father's back. One hand went to the back of his father's neck, supporting. He dipped his head in and nuzzled his father's neck. With his free hand, he toyed with the frog buttons of his father's black martial arts jacket.

His father moaned again and arched his back, pressing into the touches. "Undo my buttons. Oh, god, Kankuro…"

Kankuro grinned and hastily worked his fingers through the buttons, unhooking his father's jacket in quick succession. He slipped his hand underneath the martial arts jacket and caressed his father's nipples through the two shirts his father wore. His father's nipples were hard; that made them easy to find and tease.

Yondaime's breath hitched. He let out a soft whimper, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and shifted his hips against Kankuro's involuntarily.

Kankuro rubbed his father's nipples, getting harder himself. His breaths quickened. "Wanna do it? Wanna do what we did before I went to Rivers? Dad?"

"I-If you want to," Yondaime said, flustered. "But it's your turn, you know…you don't have to give it up because of me. I'll make you feel the pleasure you made me feel…"

Arousal sang high and electric in Kankuro's veins. _Whoa… _"I-I'm not sure I'm ready," he admitted.

His father mouthed his lips gently and sucked on his lower lip. "I'm willing to wait as long as you want to wait. Believe me, son, I would never force you. I'd never force you to do anything. You're my son, and I love you."

Somehow, those words dissolved the knots in Kankuro's stomach. He tried to gauge whether he was ready or not. "Mostly I just wanna make out with you. I wanna make out with you until we both come."

"Sounds good…to me," his father said breathlessly.

Kankuro pulled his martial arts jacket off. They proceeded towards the bed. Kankuro pushed his father down playfully and stripped his father's t-shirt off, leaving the skintight, slippery mesh. He teased his father's nipples through the fabric with both thumbs, licking his lips and letting out a sigh at the way his father squirmed and moaned underneath him. He was very hard and leaking. "Oh, Dad. God, you're sexy."

Yondaime looked up at him with amazement, flushed.

Kankuro smiled and leaned down, kissing him. Then he pulled up his father's black mesh shirt and kissed each of his father's nipples. He mouthed and kissed them each in turn, alternating frequently, getting himself lost in the pleasure of giving his father pleasure. "Your nipples are sexy," he whispered.

His father arched and moaned, squirming, rubbing their hips together.

Kankuro shifted his hips against his father in return, grinning. He feathered his fingers down his father's sides. At the same time, he licked and sucked his father's nipples, delighting in the hardness, the soft skin, the warmth.

His father let out a husky moan and yanked off his mesh shirt himself, lying completely bare from the waist up.

"Are you wet?" Kankuro whispered playfully. "Are you wet because of me?"

"Very," his father said, his voice deeper than usual.

Kankuro felt a surge of heat settle in his stomach at that. "Then why don't you take your underwear off? Let me see."

His father blushed brightly but complied, waiting until Kankuro climbed off of him. He slipped his pants and boxers down, wiggling to get free, and then peeled them off his legs, panting. His erection was hard, red, and wet, glistening with moisture already.

"Mm." Kankuro licked his lips. He wanted to suck it. He looked up at his father's face and raised an eyebrow.

His father blushed even more deeply, his eyes going wide.

Kankuro smiled, leaned in, and kissed the tip of his father's erection. He tasted sweetness and salt. He licked and kissed his father's erection for a few moments, then straddled his father's hips again. He returned to kissing and sucking his father's nipples, panting.

His father let out a long, ragged moan, his head falling back on the pillow, his body going limp.

Kankuro moaned himself, unable to help rubbing himself against his father.

"Yes…" His father's voice came out a moan. "Yes…more…Kankuro…" He shifted. "Oh…"

A jolt of arousal shot through Kankuro, making his erection leak. "More?"

"More." His father nodded.

Kankuro licked and sucked on his father's nipples with abandon, rubbing and gently squeezing the one his mouth wasn't on at the moment, giving himself completely over to the moment. He could feel they were both sweating, and his father just got wetter and wetter, dripping.

Eventually, his father reached up and squeezed his waist with both hands, trailed his hands gently over Kankuro's bottom.

Kankuro moaned deeply at the touches straying to his bottom. He'd never felt this before. His bottom tingled. He arched his back, pressing back into his father's hands.

"You like that," Yondaime whispered.

"Yes," Kankuro gasped breathlessly around his father's nipple.

"Would you like me to do some more?"

"Yes…Oh, yes…" Kankuro squirmed.

His father stroked his bottom through his cargo pants, petting.

Kankuro whimpered and squirmed uncontrollably. The fluttering tingles spread throughout his entire body, making his erection leak and his nipples harden. He soaked his boxers through in no time.

"Do you wish me to continue?" his father asked softly.

Kankuro nodded. He found himself being tenderly stripped by his father, until his lower half was bare, and being turned gently on his stomach, lying in the middle of his father's soft bed. His erection leaked against the bed sheet. "I love you," he whispered.

His father kissed the back of his neck. "I love you, too."

Kankuro spread his legs, and found his father kneeling behind him, stroking and massaging his bare bottom with both hands, with the callused pads of slender, gentle fingers. Kankuro was amazed at the pleasure. His uncertainties were balanced by the fact that his father was gentle, and the caresses to his bottom felt so good his entire body was soon throbbing.

"You do like this, don't you, Kankuro?" his father murmured.

"Yes…" Kankuro shifted, rubbing himself against the mattress. It felt great on his erection and his hardened nipples.

"Did you know I can kiss you back here?" Yondaime asked, his voice soft and seductive. "I can kiss your back, kiss you all the way down, son. Would you like to try it?"

Kankuro squirmed. "Yes." _What kind of question is that?_ He realized his father was being extra careful and gentle with him. He appreciated it. He had a thing about people being behind him – again, because of Shukaku. So many things he'd learned to be jumpy about because of Shukaku.

His father stroked his back with both hands. "Okay." He leaned over Kankuro. Kankuro could feel the warmth radiating from his father's body. His father gently shifted his hands down to Kankuro's hips and kissed the back of Kankuro's neck. That felt kind of nice. The really nice part was when his father licked down his spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. That sent liquid heat surging through Kankuro's veins. More and more heat, the further down on his body his father got.

Then his father was licking his tailbone, massaging and licking his bottom, and it felt incredible. Kankuro had never imagined that someone would want to kiss his bottom this way, but he was in an ecstasy of pleasure because of it, squirming and wailing. His father's gentle squeezing and massaging along with it sent deep surges pulsing through Kankuro to his erection. His erection throbbed, and his face flamed.

"Dad, that feels so good. Dad, please don't stop," he heard himself begging. It's delicious. The thought pinged through his head, but he couldn't get the words out. He was too busy trying to breathe as his father complied, licking his skin and massaging his bottom at the same time.

Kankuro found his entrance back there burning and tingling pleasantly. He felt the twitching and contracting with fascination. He'd never felt that before. _Do I really want it?_ Suddenly, the image of his father fingering him came to him, and it seemed appealing.

Kankuro decided to wait. His father was the one with sexual experience, after all. It had only been a few weeks, and Kankuro wanted to go slowly, like any other couple. The only reason they'd had sex this early was because his father had wanted it so badly. He wasn't going to deny his father a thing like that, not when his father was under so much stress. And being inside his father had felt incredible. Kankuro had no regrets at all.

But he suspected he might have regrets if they went too fast in other areas, so he kept his new fantasy silent and just enjoyed what his father was doing right now.

His father detected the urgency of his moans and lapped at his tailbone meaningfully, relentlessly giving pleasure. At the same time, his fingers trailed lower, until he was lightly stroking the cleft of Kankuro's bottom.

That turned Kankuro on so wildly that he came then and there, wailing and grinding his erection into the bed. "Oh, god!"

Kankuro felt himself being turned over and drawn into his father's arms. He was limp and warm and couldn't see. He suspected he had his eyes closed. He didn't have the strength to open them. To his mingled embarrassment and amusement, Kankuro felt a thin string of drool on the corner of his mouth, because he was so relaxed and sleepy. His father cuddled him, rocking him and stroking him and murmuring, "I love you," pressing kisses into Kankuro's damp hair. Kankuro didn't think he'd ever been happier.

He pressed back into his father's arms when he could, murmuring, "I love you, Daddy." There had never been a better moment in his life. He caught his father's arms weakly and hugged them to his body, delighting in their snuggles. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

His father laughed gently and kissed his forehead, playfully mouthing and leaving a noisy kiss. "I love you, love you, love you, too."

Kankuro giggled. It was good to be home.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

* * *

After they'd cleaned up and experienced afterglow snuggling while freshly showered, they rolled out of bed.

"I'm going to invite the honorable Jiraiya over for dinner," Yondaime decided, nodding.

"It's not very subtle to have him over for dinner," Kankuro pointed out.

"On the contrary," Yondaime said, smiling gently. "If the Council knows nothing, this is exactly what an innocent Kazekage would do: make the informant from Konoha feel welcome so he suspects nothing of the upcoming invasion."

"Oh." Kankuro thought of the Puppet Corps saying, 'Layers within layers'. _A scene must not be what it appears on the surface,_ one of their teachers had said. _Everything must have more than one meaning._ "That's a good point," he said out loud.

His father got dressed in a black yukata with a smoky gray pattern of diagonal stripes. One of his more attractive choices. He wore a silver obi with it.

Kankuro decided to go with his semi-formal attire, which bore a striking resemblance to his father's casual wear: black hakama with a black short yukata and a long-sleeved black mesh shirt underneath. He also wore his face paint, but only around the eyes. The full paint was only for battle.

When he met his father in the hallway after getting ready, his father smiled admiringly and nodded. "You look very handsome."

Kankuro dared to reach out and squeeze his hand, since no one was upstairs. "Thank you. You look handsome, too." Now that he had been alerted, he saw subtle signs of makeup; a slight lightening under his father's eyes, and the corners of his eyes accentuated with black; a tiny cat's eye effect.

Then he did a double take. "Hey, you look the same as Yashamaru." Just around the eyes, but he figured his father knew what he meant.

Yondaime blushed, and then nodded, biting his lip in embarrassment. "Yashamaru wore makeup. That was the reason why it occurred to me to try makeup on for myself. Otherwise, the idea would have scarcely occurred to me. In some ways, I led a very sheltered childhood."

_Sheltered from all means of experimentation and freedom,_ Kankuro thought. He gave his father a small, sympathetic smile.

They walked downstairs together.

Gaara was in the living room, curled up on the sofa. The tv was off. He was just sitting there, his knees clasped to his chest. Kankuro noticed Gaara often sat that way on the sofa. He figured it was probably comfortable.

At their father's entrance, Gaara uncurled and stood. "Otousama."

"You can sit down," Yondaime said.

Gaara didn't.

Their father suppressed a sigh. "I'm only here to tell you that we will be having a guest for dinner: the honorable Jiraiya, the man you spent the trip home with."

"I will be in my room, of course," Gaara intoned. He gave their father a polite bow.

Yondaime raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Gaara straightened slowly and looked at Yondaime with wary confusion. "I am always to be confined to my quarters during formal dinners."

"That was in the past," Yondaime said gently. "Please join us for dinner, Gaara. My only concern at the time when you were small was that you would be overwhelmed by the gathering. For one thing, this gathering is only one man. Jiraiya, the man you already know. For another, your control of Shukaku is much better now. You will not lose control and allow Shukaku to lash out during the dinner. I have faith in you." He closed the space between them, hesitated, and then squeezed Gaara's shoulder.

Kankuro was amazed that their father got away with it. But then, things were changing around here. Slowly, but surely, they were. Had been since Gaara's graduation. Kankuro suspected that Gaara graduating was a minor miracle, and that it has gotten the Council off Yondaime's back in some way. That, coupled with the therapy and medication, was making a difference in their father's confidence.

Gaara looked somewhat puzzled, but less hostile. He bowed again. "Then I will prepare for dinner." He walked out of the living room and up the stairs.

Yondaime watched his younger son depart silently. Then he turned to Kankuro. "Do you think that went well?" he whispered.

Kankuro nodded.

His father relaxed a little. "Now, where in the world is Temari?"

Kankuro grinned. "That is the question, isn't it?"

In the due course of things, they managed to round up Temari and Baki, get a dinner menu thrown together – red snapper with rice and salmon maki roll sushi – and invite Jiraiya over by messenger.

Miraculously, at five o'clock sharp, they sat down to dinner. Kankuro marveled. _This never happens. Everyone's here. Plus Baki, and a guest_. He grinned. _This is cool._

Temari wore a lavender and white kimono with a bright sunshine yellow obi. Gaara had chosen a martial arts coat similar to their father's. It was a deep red, so dark that it was almost black. Kankuro reflected that it was nice to see the family all dressed up for once. This usually happened only in family photos. The last one of those had been three years ago, when they were all still in the academy, and Temari was set to graduate that year.

Baki, by contrast, wore his work uniform, and Jiraiya wore a red haori with a green kimono underneath.

For the first few minutes, it was all normal stuff. The staff served them their dinner, starting with Jiraiya, then Baki, going through the kids in reverse age order, and Yondaime last. As per custom. Jiraiya told Yondaime what a lovely home this was, and Yondaime thanked him, saying that it was the ancestral mansion of the Kazekage. Everyone murmured how delicious dinner was, taking a polite first bite of their grilled red snapper, or their sushi.

Then, as everyone relaxed, they got down to real conversation.

"I'm glad to see that the code still works," Yondaime said.

"Of course," Jiraiya said.

"I don't get it," Temari said. "What was with all that frog stuff? You summon toads."

Jiraiya explained, "For code purposes, a frog means a toad. Anyone referring to a toad openly is revealed as someone trying to crack the code. In other words, one of my many enemies."

"You've got enemies?" Temari seemed dubious.

Jiraiya nodded, grinning. "Oh, lots. And I make more every day."

"What an honor it is to have such a distinguished guest," Yondaime said, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm easily distinguishable, alright," Jiraiya agreed.

Baki rolled his eyes and sighed.

Temari looked at Jiraiya with confusion. Kankuro pitied her if she was trying to analyze the Sannin and 'figure him out'. That might be a skill of hers in battle, but Jiraiya was out of her league.

"A distinguished guest is someone who is important," Gaara said slowly, his head bowed and his eyes closed. "A distinguishable guest is someone who is noticeable. I do not understand the conflation."

"That's because it wasn't a conflation, it was a joke," Jiraiya said. "A word joke. Hence why your honorable Sensei here groaned. A proper response to a word joke is a groan."

Baki gave Jiraiya a look. Kankuro thought he saw a smile of amusement trying to come out.

Gaara opened his eyes and examined Jiraiya with a furrowed brow. "I believe you are joking."

"I'm always joking," Jiraiya said. He sat back comfortably in his chair.

"How can we trust you to convey accurate information if you are always joking?" Gaara asked.

Kankuro had to hand it to him; his little brother was doing a fine job of cornering Jiraiya. The Sannin seemed slippery. And yet, here was Gaara in dogged, intellectual, pursuit.

"Well, I'm not always joking," Jiraiya protested. "Not literally."

"Your use of less-than-literal statements and word jokes connotes a high level of deception and deflection," Gaara said.

"Yeah…" Jiraiya gave him a look. "What are you? A linguist?"

"No, I am a jinchuuriki."

Baki watched this exchange with fascination, obviously holding his breath so that he didn't ruin it.

Kankuro had to sublimate laughter.

Temari looked nervous. She chewed her lip and averted her gaze to her dinner. Apparently she didn't have the same faith in Gaara as their father did. Kankuro couldn't blame her. They'd witnessed a lot of explosions over the years.

"You know, our village has a jinchuuriki," Jiraiya said, taking a few bites of his grilled fish. "Maybe you'll get to meet him."

Gaara raised an eyebrow. "Another jinchuuriki?"

Jiraiya nodded. "There are nine of you. Of course."

"Why 'of course'?" Gaara asked.

"Because there are nine parts to the Ten Tails," Jiraiya said.

Gaara stared at him. "That does not make any logical sense. I believe you are speaking incorrectly. Furthermore, I do not believe in the existence of a Ten Tails."

"That's because there isn't one," Jiraiya said, patiently explaining.

Baki let out a roar of laughter. "He's looking at you like you've grown extra heads!"

"I can do that," Jiraiya said. "It's called Sage Mode. I don't like to use it because it's weird. And a little creepy."

Kankuro raised an eyebrow. "So…sages have more than one head? What's the logic behind that technique's name?"

Jiraiya shrugged. "I didn't make it up, so I can't tell ya."

"A Ten Tails," Gaara said faintly. "Which does not exist. Explain."

"A long time ago, the Sage of Six Paths fought a beast called the Ten Tailed Beast, and he split this beast into nine tailed beasts with his magical powers." Jiraiya frowned. "No, I'm getting ahead of myself. The Sage of Six Paths fought the Ten Tailed Beast and defeated him, and sealed the beast into himself to protect everybody, because his will was stronger. But!" Jiraiya held up an index finger.

"The day came when the Sage had to die. Because everyone dies of old age. So he passed the keeping of this Ten Tailed Beast onto his sons. But his sons thought that they could not handle it. So they split up the Ten Tailed Beast into nine parts and scattered them among the world in sealed vessels. Each magical vessel had two protectors, who would make sure that the slumber of the tailed beast within was never disturbed."

Jiraiya gestured dramatically. "However, over time man grew greedy, and he waged war on his fellow man, seeking ever more destructive paths. He unleashed the tailed beasts on each other, starting a war that raged for many centuries. Eventually, the Five Great Shinobi Nations were formed, and a tenuous treaty achieved, but the balance of power of the tailed beasts is ever delicate; for the reason that there are nine beasts and five nations."

Kankuro was impressed. At least with a live audience, Jiraiya was a natural storyteller.

Gaara bowed his head and closed his eyes in thought, absorbing that tale. After several moments of silence, he lifted his head and addressed Jiraiya. "So…each of the tailed beasts is one tail."

"No," Jiraiya said.

"Then one of the beasts is two-tailed, to make up for the missing tail," Gaara said.

Jiraiya hesitated. "Actually…You're the only kid who carries the One Tail. See, there are nine beasts in order: The One Tail, the Two Tails, the Three Tails, the Four Tails, the Five Tails, the Six Tails, the Seven Tails, and Eight Tails, and the Nine Tails."

"That does not make sense," Gaara said. "All of those tails added together makes forty-five. There were not forty-five tails in the original tale. There were ten."

Jiraiya sighed. "I know. You don't have to tell math to me. The current forms of the tailed beasts do not reflect the original form. They have assumed shapes of their own."

"So each individual tail is much weaker than the original strength of the tails," Gaara said.

"I have no idea if the number of tails has any correlation at all to the strength of the beast," Jiraiya said. "No one knows what the Ten Tailed Beast was like. It's a figure of mythology; like the Sage of Six Paths."

Gaara raised an eyebrow. "So the story is not true."

"No," Jiraiya said. "The story is true."

Gaara looked confused. He scowled.

"Each of the noble families of each of the Great Shinobi Nations is a descendent of the Sage of Six Paths," Jiraiya said. "The Sage of Six Paths had six major descendents. These descendents formed the nations of Fire, Whirlpool, Rain, Lightning, Earth, and Wind. Each nation had a different specialty, a different special power their noble family possessed. Each jinchuuriki of the new era must be chosen of a descendent of the Sage of Six Paths. Otherwise, the sealing ceremony won't work."

Gaara stared at Jiraiya. "There are Five Great Shinobi Nations."

"Now," Jiraiya said. He gestured with his chopsticks. "Whirlpool is defunct. Destroyed. But that happened at the end of the Third Shinobi World War. Up until that point, Whirlpool was one of the Great Nations. Their descendents are still scattered across the remaining nations. Including the noble family of Uzumaki, which is one of the noble families descended from the Sage of Six Paths."

"So there are six families," Gaara said slowly.

"Yes," Jiraiya said.

"And five nations."

"Yes."

"And nine jinchuuriki."

"…Yes."

"This situation is not ideal," Gaara concluded.

Jiraiya laughed, shook his head, and ate a piece of sushi. "You've got that right."

Kankuro had to smile. He was glad to see that Gaara and Jiraiya got along after all. Gaara never conversed with someone he didn't get along with. In fact, Gaara was unusually extroverted around Jiraiya.

Gaara looked to Yondaime. "How will we fix this situation?"

Yondaime blinked at him in surprise. "Fix it?"

Gaara scowled at him. "Yes. We must fix the situation so that everyone is allotted the same amount of power and all the tailed beasts are safely sealed."

"That's…a little out of our scope," Yondaime protested.

"It shouldn't be." Gaara narrowed his eyes.

Kankuro became worried there would be an explosion after all.

"That would take an international forum," Yondaime said.

"Make one."

"We have one," Yondaime said patiently. "It's called the Five Kage Summit."

"Well, go there," Gaara said.

Yondaime pressed his lips together, took a deep breath through his nose, and said, "All the Kages have to agree to come. Essentially, we have to call this summit together. As a group."

"That's stupid," Gaara said.

"I agree," Yondaime said sadly. "However, this is the way it is."

Gaara shifted in his seat and went back to eating his dinner, looking discontented.

"We could get everyone to come together," Jiraiya said. "It's not impossible. The Chuunin Exams are a thing, now. They were made after the Third World War. Or, this version of them got made. Before, everyone was testing their genin individually, within their own villages. This whole group thing is catching on. Let's see if we can't get a kind of a group Kage gathering at the same time as the exam. Everyone will have a reason to show up, after all."

Yondaime nodded slowly, but he didn't look hopeful. "Some of the Kages are difficult…"

Jiraiya laughed. "All of them are difficult, but you all manage to hold the world together somehow. I bet we can pull this off if we have a uniting force."

"Like what?" Yondaime asked.

Jiraiya looked around the dinner table, suddenly somber. "There might be one coming. That's all I'm going to say right now. I don't want to give anyone indigestion."

_That bad, huh?_ Kankuro thought. He hoped Jiraiya was wrong.

"So there is a jinchuuriki in Konoha?" Temari asked, changing the subject. "What's he like? Or is it a she?"

"It's a boy," Jiraiya confirmed. "And his name is Uzumaki Naruto, in accordance with the traditional method of tracing lineage back to a Sage descendant. His mom was actually the Uzumaki, but that doesn't matter in this case. Even if they'd both lived, he would still be an Uzumaki because of his bloodline. Things're complicated that way."

"Even if they'd both lived?" Kankuro asked quietly.

"He's an orphan," Jiraiya said.

Kankuro bowed his head, looking at his plate. He suddenly wasn't hungry. One of his big fears when he was growing up was that something would happen to Dad and he would become an orphan, along with Gaara and Temari. He didn't think he could face that.

"Who takes care of him, then?" Kankuro murmured.

"Oh, he takes care of himself, these days," Jiraiya said. "Mostly. But Sandaime, my teacher, took Naruto under his wing. He practically lived at Sarutobi's house for most of his life. He was always going there because of something the villagers would do."

No one had to ask what Jiraiya meant by that.

Gaara looked at Jiraiya with wide eyes. "He faced the villagers hating him, too?"

"Oh, yeah," Jiraiya said. "It's inevitable. For some strange reason."

"So all the jinchuuriki would know what it feels like to be hated and shunned?" Gaara tilted his head.

"I'm afraid so," Jiraiya said. "You're one member of a sad, special club, Gaara: the jinchuuriki descendents of the Sage of Six Paths that carry the tailed beasts, so no one around you has to get hurt. It doesn't make sense to idolize the Sage of Six Paths and hurt you, but there you go: people do it all the time." He shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. You're all heroes in my opinion."

Gaara looked at Jiraiya blankly, as if unable to fathom that.

"Someday, when you're an adult, you'll have a lot more respect," Jiraiya said.

"By the laws of this nation I am already an adult," Gaara intoned.

Jiraiya winced.

Baki laughed and shook his head. "You always forget that, don't you?"

Jiraiya rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. I apologize. I mean, when you're an adult physically."

Gaara nodded. "Alright."

"For some reason, people need to see a full grown adult to pay any respect," Jiraiya said. "Believe me, I faced the same thing when I was a kid. It sucked. And it's wrong." He gestured with his chopsticks, then ate a bite of dinner.

Kankuro nodded. "You've got that right. We deserve the same respect as anyone else. We're fighting for our nations, so we deserve to be treated better. Even kids who don't go to ninja school ought to be treated fairly."

Yondaime gave Kankuro an appreciative smile.

Kankuro realized his father still had big wounds about being a kid and being helpless, being subjected to unfair and terrifying treatment without any way to secure a better future for himself. He smiled in return, reached under the table, and squeezed his father's hand.

His father blushed slightly and melted, his shoulders relaxing.

Kankuro knew that was an awfully obvious indicator of their relationship, but he didn't care. Fathers and sons could be close, too. There was no reason not to comfort his father in front of other people. Including his siblings. They could stand to show a little affection, too.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

* * *

The next afternoon it was time for a therapy appointment with Mafumi. Kankuro was grateful that his mission to Rivers had been scheduled so that he wouldn't miss any of his father's therapy appointments. He would have felt too guilty to go if he had deprived his father of support.

They were comfortably seated in Mafumi's office, side by side in chairs.

"I'm feeling much better," Yondaime offered, smiling.

Mafumi smiled gently in return. "That's good. I'm glad to hear that the medications are kicking in and taking effect, Yondaime-sama."

Yondaime nodded.

"Tell me about your life," Mafumi said. "What have you been doing?"

"I've been keeping up with my journal entries," Yondaime said. "It really helps."

"That's good…" Mafumi's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Kankuro saw that she was onto his father's evasion. "Now, tell me about what's been upsetting you."

Yondaime squirmed.

Kankuro couldn't help but smile. "Come on, Dad…we're here for a reason."

"Depression counseling," Yondaime said. "I know."

"You must deal with the source of your depression, Yondaime-sama," Mafumi said gently. "Unless you deal with the source, the feelings of depression will not go away. You are on medication now, true, but medication is only effective for one or two years, depending on the type. You will not want to keep switching medications for the rest of your life. You want to face what is bothering you."

Yondaime raised an eyebrow. "Do I?" But he sighed. "I suppose…" He leaned back in his chair. "I will have to, won't I?"

"Yes," Mafumi said with a small smile.

"I suppose…" Yondaime rested his head against the back of the chair and looked at the ceiling. "I should tell you. From the beginning."

Kankuro was amazed his father had the courage.

"My father abused me since I can remember," Yondaime said. "He died last year. When I married my wife, Karura, I started remembering the things he did to me. But most of my memories stayed under lock and key until he died. That was when I felt free to remember." He gave the therapist a wry smile. "Apparently."

He took a deep, slow breath. "It's been a hard year. Hard to keep going when I have nightmares every night, and my three children are at an age where they're going out on missions on their own…it makes me worry for them, for their safety, and thoughts of everything that could happen to them…things that I've known, things that happened to me, makes every moment almost unbearable."

"I understand that," Mafumi said softly. She waited a moment. When Yondaime stayed silent, she said, "So your main sources of depression are fear for your children and memories of the abuse you suffered as a child."

"Yes," Yondaime said. "After my wife died, my father came back in the worst way possible…but I don't remember much of that, yet."

Kankuro withheld a wince. _God, Dad…_ He didn't look forward to when his dad had to process that stuff. His father would be in agony. The only comforting aspect was that he was here to offer support as an adult human being now.

"Well, it's important to process these memories safely and at your own pace," Mafumi said.

Kankuro nodded. "That's what Yuna-san said."

Mafumi smiled. "Ah, yes. You are working with Yuna-san also. I have heard this. Yuna-san is a good counselor. I trust her implicitly to lead you down the right path. I have worked with Yuna-san many times in the past because of her trustworthiness. It is a fortunate coincidence that you ended up seeking out my services after beginning treatment with Yuna-san."

"Perhaps the receptionist put us together," Yondaime said. "I asked for who she recommended."

"Ah." Mafumi nodded. "Perhaps that is it. Most of the people who work at the reception desk are aware of which therapists coordinate well together."

Kankuro was glad his father picked such a competent, friendly place to be. "What do you think we should do? Should we work out our issues with Yuna-san? Or did you want to help, too?"

"Well, I am mostly a behavioral therapist, though I do specialize in group therapy as well," Mafumi said. "I was thinking that I would help Yondaime-sama end any habits he wants to stop, and help him grow new, healthy habits to engage in."

"That seems reasonable," Yondaime said.

"And Yuna-san?" Kankuro asked.

Mafumi said, "Yuna-san does specialize in trauma-related family problems. I do believe she is a good place to start for processing your memories, Yondaime-sama. If you need any additional help, we will refer you to someone versed in post traumatic stress disorder related problems."

"Thank you," Kankuro said.

Yondaime nodded. "Yes, thank you, Mafumi-san. I am reassured that my treatment lies in good hands."

Mafumi inclined her head.

For the rest of the appointment, they talked more about building a routine that would help Yondaime manage his anxiety and depression. For instance, getting exercise into Yondaime's routine; including the possibility of putting a piece of gym equipment in his office, like a treadmill or an elliptical. Yondaime was amused. Mafumi also suggested massage again, but Yondaime was unsure. Kankuro thought that had a lot to do with the sexual abuse. His father likely didn't want unfamiliar people touching him.

**xXx**

After the appointment, Yondaime went back to work, and Kankuro went home. He wanted to do some research on his own. The Kazekage library was dedicated to more than jutsus, after all. He noticed that his father hadn't told Mafumi about the blackouts. He knew that his father probably wasn't going to divulge that information any time soon, but Kankuro thought it might be important.

Blackouts didn't exactly sound normal.

Kankuro browsed the shelves of scrolls and books. Dusty sunlight filtered in through one of the round windows high up on the wall, lighting the vast room. The ancient maroon carpet was a little on the ratty side in places, but Kankuro loved the library dearly. He wouldn't trade anything about it for the world. It had been the same for as long as he could remember. All the walls were covered with bookshelves up to the ceiling, the higher shelves accessed by a ladder that slid on a track. The center of the room had a row of low tables interspersed with round, squashy chairs and torch style reading lamps.

By now, Kankuro knew right where the psychology section was, even though nothing was marked. Some of the publications were old, including some scrolls that were practically falling apart, but there were new ones, too. Kankuro noticed that any time a prominent publication came out, a copy was donated to the Kazekage library. A similar library at the Academy was even bigger, but the reading selection was different. Less psychology and more history and jutsus.

Kankuro ran his fingers down the materials on the shelf, searching for the diagnostic reference. He could look up what caused blackouts in people, and then research each possibility one by one.

He found the book, a thick dictionary-like volume, and brought it over to the nearest chair to curl up and read. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, he didn't need to turn on a lamp. Kankuro opened the book and flipped through until he found the right entry: _kiwoushinau_ – to faint, to lose consciousness, to black out. He hoped that the entry would have stuff about not remembering what happened, or else he'd have to look up memory loss, too.

Kankuro soon found out he needed to look under dissociation, or _kairi_. He found that entry and started reading. After scanning the paragraph, he realized that dissociation was, in and of itself, a topic that many books were written about. He shut the diagnostic volume and went back to the bookshelf. He came back with five different books. Not knowing which to start with, Kankuro stacked them on the nearest table and picked up the one that ended up on the top of the stack.

Hours later, Kankuro had absorbed a lot of information. The five books lay scattered on the table. He'd read two of them enough to know they weren't what he needed. The other three, though…one of them had been a slim volume easily finished. The other two would take him about a week to get through. He'd gotten through half of one, though. The descriptions of what the patients went through sounded so much like his dad that Kankuro had been unable to put it down.

Now he stared at the ceiling, stunned. When his gaze drifted to the window, he vaguely realized it was time to pick up his dad from work at the other end of the building.

_How do I talk about this?_

**xXx**

After dinner, Kankuro checked in on his father…and also prepared to tell his father some of the things he'd learned today. Last time, their research sharing had kind of exploded them both, so Kankuro wasn't sure this was a good idea…but he couldn't keep this stuff to himself.

He knocked on his father's door. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," came the response.

Kankuro slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

"Konbanwa," his father said, looking up from a sketchbook. Kankuro hadn't known his father had one. But there his father was, a sketch book on his lap, sitting in bed, a pencil in hand. "Please excuse the mess." He closed the book and put away the pencil in a pencil case, slipping both of them into the bottom drawer of the nightstand that used to belong to Karura.

Kankuro politely didn't mention anything. He knew his father was self-conscious, so he didn't attempt to explain that he didn't think his father's art supplies were a mess. His father's wording made him wonder if his father had been artistic as a kid, and his grandfather put a stop to it.

His father smiled at him once the bed was 'tidied up'. "What's up?"

"I did some research today," Kankuro said. He leaned against the closed door.

"Oh, did you?" His father raised an eyebrow, smiling.

Kankuro nodded. "Yeah, and I found out some things that you might need to know…It might be useful to know them…"

"Alright," his father said amiably. "Why don't you come over here and tell me, then?" He patted the bed.

Kankuro crossed the room that that permission and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well…first of all…you have a dissociative disorder."

"What's that?" his father asked.

"Well, it's a lot of things," Kankuro said. "It's like…" He scratched his head. "Have you ever felt not attached to your body? Or, like…the person in the mirror isn't really you?"

Yondaime nodded. "All the time," he said softly.

Kankuro bit his lip. "Well, that's called depersonalization. That's a kind of dissociation."

"Okay."

Kankuro glanced at his father. His father seemed to be taking this well so far, so he continued. "And, there's more. Like…feeling like the world isn't real. Do you feel that way, too?"

"Sometimes." Yondaime nodded. "I find it hard to believe: Can this be happening? Is this real? Or is this one big nightmare?"

Kankuro nodded slowly. Especially given the declaration of war, he could easily imagine that response. "That's called derealization. Sometimes, people say that the world is foggy, or fuzzy, or far away…or that they feel like they're in a play – or in a movie, more recently, since movie theatres started getting popular."

"A very strange movie," Yondaime murmured. "In which I could never seem to do anything right, or get my lines right."

Kankuro reached out and squeezed his father's hand.

His father gave him a weak smile in response.

"A-and, well, there's a bunch of other stuff, but I don't know if you have any of that," Kankuro said quickly. He didn't want to scare his father the way he'd been scared by the research. "But there's one more thing."

"Oh?" His father raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me, by all means."

"One of the problems people have after they've been through something intense – like a traumatic accident, or a mission, or abuse – is that they can't handle feeling strong emotions," Kankuro said.

Yondaime nodded slowly. "Well…that's not the only reason, I imagine many people are simply not trained to display emotions."

"But that's different," Kankuro said. "They still feel them. They just don't share. I mean…like…you run away from them. Because they're too hard to handle."

"Ah," his father said.

Kankuro inwardly cringed at the one-syllable response. "So…you couldn't cope with going to therapy very well when you had to talk about painful stuff on of the last times we saw Yuna-san because of something called affect dysregulation."

"Affect dysregulation," his father murmured. He smiled wryly. "It sounds serious."

Kankuro could tell his father wanted to make light of this subject, but he steeled himself to move forward with it. "I'm not saying we have to deal with it by ourselves. I think we should talk about this with Yuna-san. The book I read says that therapists know ways to make it less scary to face your emotions."

"That would be nice," Yondaime said, nodding. "As it is, I'm very scared of being emotional. Especially scared of being scared."

Kankuro hugged his father. He pulled his father against him and got snuggled up, his father sitting against his chest, in his arms, the covers around them. "I'm here. It's okay. It's okay to be scared, and anything else. That's something we're going to work on. Not feeling okay to have these emotions is just going to cause more dissociation."

Yondaime just let Kankuro snuggle on him and pet his hair for a little while.

"You're a highly dissociative person because you've been abused as a kid," Kankuro said. "That's how it works. You were too small to defend yourself, so the only thing you could do was forget. Otherwise, you would have died, and you're too much of a survivor for that. But now…forgetting and other stuff is the only thing you know how to do, still. So we have to get you healthy. It's not fun to be forgetting stuff all the time, I'll bet."

Yondaime nodded. "It's not. Especially when my job depends on it. I find myself doing the right thing anyway, saying the right things, but I don't know how I manage to keep up. It's like there's some other part of me who knows…" He trailed off. "That sounds silly. I apologize."

"No, it's not silly," Kankuro said softly. He stroked his father's cheek. "It's true. There is some part of you who remembers. A trustworthy person everyone elected to be Kazekage, being Kazekage. It's you. You just can't remember how to access those memories, that knowledge, unless you're triggered off. When you're in the Council chamber, that might be a trigger, for example. When you're there, you remember, because you associate the Council chamber with the memories."

"Fascinating," his father murmured. "So the surroundings I'm in serve as a memory aid. That makes sense. I've noticed the same thing about my study. When I'm in my study, I remember things I have to do. So it's like that?"

Kankuro nodded. "When you've been abused, you store your memories differently. You're not forgetting or forgetful or brain damaged or anything. Your brain just keeps memories isolated in a special way. For instance…when your mom's away, but your father isn't. That's an environmental trigger. When that happens. You remember the abuse. But until then…you don't. Because your brain hid it. So only a circumstance related to the memory could trigger it."

"I suppose that makes sense." His father chewed his lip.

Kankuro stroked his shoulders. "It's okay…studies show that people with dissociative disorders can remember more under hypnosis. Just like everybody else. Apparently hypnosis done properly is a memory aid. Like a mild genjutsu effect, where you go inside yourself. Except it's not a technique that requires chakra, it's more like…guided meditation."

"Ah." Yondaime nodded. "I used to do a lot of meditation when Karura was alive. It would help me calm down and relax after a day's work."

"Then that's something you should definitely do again," Kankuro said. "Add it to the list of healthy habits."

"I stopped doing it because…after Karura's death…" Yondaime hesitated. "All it would make me do is cry. I would just cry, and cry, to the point where I had to stop."

Kankuro's eyes burned in sympathy. He hugged his father tightly and rocked him. "It's okay now. You've got some support back. You've got me."

Yondaime twisted around and held Kankuro in return, clinging tightly and kissing Kankuro's neck.

Kankuro blushed brightly. He felt himself stirring. "That feels good, Dad."

"I love you," Yondaime mumbled. "I love you so, so, so much." He punctuated his words with kisses.

Kankuro's eyes fell closed, and he allowed himself a soft moan. _You used to be very physically affectionate, didn't you? When Mom was alive…I bet you were_. His father had become increasingly snuggly and demonstrative the more he'd opened up. He stroked his father's back gently. "I love you, too, Dad. More than I can say." Mostly because he got a little choked up with emotion.

"You don't have to say," his father said softly. "You show me every day."

Kankuro felt warm at that; a rush of peaceful tranquility passed through him, making him melt. It was a feeling he didn't have too often in his life: being appreciated. And he'd been so afraid that researching his father's symptoms would be seen as prying. Instead, his reward was being held and snuggled. Proof that his father was one person who wouldn't push him away or reject his help. Kankuro never wanted anything more. His father was the ideal person to pour out his love to: someone who loved him back.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

* * *

On the surface, everything had to remain the same. Baki trained Kankuro, Temari, and Gaara in preparation for the Chunin Exam. Their father went to work and came home in his usual routine, waiting for Kankuro to pick him up. For outside observers, they had to appear as though their patterns hadn't changed.

On the inside, worry about the war and Jiraiya's ability to root out the main players gnawed in Kankuro's stomach. He didn't want his father to cry, he didn't want innocent people to be killed, and he didn't want to be stuck fighting battle after battle until the whole world was consumed in war.

Shinobi were not mindless tools of destruction. Shinobi were people. Shinobi were not lawless criminals. Shinobi had a code of honor. Most of all, shinobi were not callous about the value of life. Someone who could end a life could never afford to be. Life was a concept to be taken seriously.

And no life should be ended because some old people sitting around a table thought it was a good way to raise money.

Kankuro was furious. He wanted to track them down and tell them to slaughter their own families first, if they felt like blood would turn into gold. Because bloodshed was not some miraculous process of alchemy. There were very few conditions under which Kankuro would ever consider killing somebody. All of them included protecting himself or somebody else.

War was not protection.

**xXx**

Kankuro sat around the dining table with his siblings, father, and teacher, trying to act as if everything was normal and not as though his stomach hurt.

"So have you heard from Jiraiya yet?" Temari's question punctured the thin veneer of denial over the group.

"No," Yondaime said. "I told him not to report to my office anyway. If he has anything to report, he'll come here after hours."

"That's not suspicious," Temari said.

Yondaime sighed. "What else can I do? He shouldn't be seen hanging around my office. We're not supposed to be that close."

"How close are you?" Kankuro asked.

"Jiraiya entered the scene as a double agent in the Third Shinobi World War," Yondaime said.

"A double agent?" Temari asked.

"Premature negotiations for peace between countries are common," Baki explained. "However, different factions within each country are still fighting: some for war, others against. Yondaime means that Jiraiya was a representative of a peaceful group from Konoha. In an alternate version of history, a double agent who betrayed his country to speak peace to the Sand."

"Oh." Temari looked at Baki and her father blankly. "War is more complicated than I thought it was. I thought everyone had to agree to be at war for the war to continue."

Yondaime shook his head, smiling sadly. "There are defectors and dissenters in every war. No war is unanimous, Temari. There are always people who want peace over war. The problem is that they are usually fewer or less powerful."

"So Jiraiya came in to talk peace with your uncle," Kankuro said, trying to piece together the story.

Yondaime shook his head. "No." He ate a bite of steamed seafood. "Jiraiya came to me after my uncle had been killed." These days, it was mostly referred to as a death rather than a disappearance, in spite of the fact that no one had ever found a body.

"You…were named as Ojisan's successor from the beginning?" Kankuro asked.

"No." He bowed his head, studying his plate. "Jiraiya and a man named Minato, who later became the Yondaime Hokage, were instrumental in convincing me to become the next Kazekage and in gathering enough support for me to do so. Their supporters discretely coordinated with sympathizers within Suna in order to run a campaign for me."

"You're still ashamed about that," Baki said.

"Politics is dishonest." Yondaime shrugged. "I am a good Kazekage. I suppose I must be to make up for the method of my election. In return, I signed a peace treaty with Namikaze Minato as soon as he ascended to the position of Hokage. Our countries made peace with each other. All is well…except that I deeply suspect the current Council knows how I achieved this position, and consider me tantamount to a traitor."

"And they're punishing you," Baki guessed.

Yondaime nodded.

Baki shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You've done a good job, the people like you, and everyone is even starting to calm down about Gaara now that he's graduated. You just have to ride out this traitorous war proposition, and everything will be alright."

Yondaime smiled wryly. Kankuro was relieved to see this smile reach his father's eyes. "Whom the traitor is depends on one's point of view, doesn't it?"

Baki grinned. "To me, you'll always be the loyal sensei I knew as a child."

Yondaime looked away, but he seemed pleased nonetheless. He couldn't help the smile or the slight blush. "Well."

Kankuro needed a moment to process everything he'd heard. He held up a hand. "Wait. So you and Jiraiya…really know each other."

Yondaime and Baki nodded.

"We have a past," Yondaime agreed. He ate a bite of fish.

"That is why we knew we could rely on him to carry the message to Konoha that the Council was planning on attacking," Baki said.

Kankuro nodded and ate a few bites of rice and fish as well. A lot of things made more sense now. "But you've changed a lot since Jiraiya last saw you, haven't you, Baki?"

Baki looked at Kankuro in surprise and then laughed. "Well, yes. The last time Jiraiya saw me, I was thirteen. I would imagine he didn't remember me, either. I was not exactly vocal. More like I hid behind my sensei from the legend with the crazy white hair."

Kankuro and Temari laughed.

"I can so see that," Temari said, grinning. "Cute little Baki hiding from big, scary Jiraiya."

Baki stuck his tongue out at her. "Now I'm the scarier one. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, definitely," Temari reassured him, with sparkling eyes.

Yondaime snorted. "How tough can you be when you require a teenage girl to bolster your confidence in your scariness, I wonder?"

Baki looked at his former sensei with wide eyes and then roared with laughter.

Kankuro was pleasantly surprised as well. He'd never heard his father joke like that. It was something he might have said if he'd known Baki a little better. Another sign of his father's improvement. His chest felt warm inside.

At that moment, amidst the laughter, Jiraiya appeared, walking into the dining room casually, only to stop and blink. "Having a party?"

"A little bit," Baki said. "What's up?"

Jiraiya pulled out a scroll from his obi and crossed the room to stand in the corner between Yondaime and Baki. "Okay, first problem you've got is this." Jiraiya tossed the scroll down on the table in front of Yondaime, narrowly missing Yondaime's dinner.

"What is this?" Yondaime asked, raising an eyebrow at Jiraiya instead of reading the scroll.

"An anonymous informant claims to have proof that Konoha broke the treaty first by undercutting you guys on missions," Jiraiya said. He glanced at Kankuro and saw Kankuro's blank expression. "Mission bids. Clients ask for quotes from the villages. How much for an A-rank, how much for an S-rank, how much to do this, et cetera. Then they pick the village that, surprise, surprise, gives them the lowest quote. Somehow, someone is claiming that Konoha has access to Suna's bids and is underbidding them. On purpose."

Yondaime sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I explained to them that we cannot afford to raise our rates, but that was a decision they voted on. It would be all too easy for the Council to believe that Konoha has taken advantage of their decision, and that they have set themselves up to be underbid out of the market. Those councilmen are born pessimists. Or at least they act like it."

"Isn't this something the Council should share with you?" Temari asked.

"Yes," Baki said flatly. "They should have. They should have told you about their anonymous information source."

"But, they didn't, because they knew you wouldn't believe it, and you would defend your old friend Sarutobi," Jiraiya said. He scowled. "They're practically acting like you should be un-seated as Kazekage."

"Oh, I know they think I should have," Yondaime said. "They think I should have lost the job when Karura died. I took a whole month off to grieve. They've never trusted me since."

Kankuro was shocked, and he sincerely hoped that his father's point of view was distorted.

"Outrageous," Baki said. "Absolutely outrageous."

Kankuro nodded in agreement.

"So how can we skewer these jerks?" Temari demanded. "They can't just undercut Father's power like that!"

Gaara nodded once, a deliberate, decisive motion. "They dishonor the village."

A chill ran down Kankuro's spine, making the little hairs on his arms stand up on end. When Gaara said that, it meant he was in neck-snapping mode. For whatever reason, when Gaara had complete control of Shukaku, his little brother was obsessively honor-bound about the village. He supposed he should be glad for the loyalty, but somehow, this loyalty didn't seem to extend to individual people. Just the village as a whole.

Anyone dishonoring the village would be crunched between Shukaku's teeth like candy.

Jiraiya held up his hands. "Look, people, I know you're angry, but the most efficient thing to do is to go to the cause of the problem: this informant. Who is it, where are they, are they even a real person? Where did this allegation of underbidding come from? Since that's fuelling this war, I've got to get to the bottom of this."

"Need any help?" Baki asked.

Jiraiya turned to his second cousin with a smile. "I'd be glad for the help."

Kankuro was suddenly worried for the informant. Baki's kind of help probably included wind blades. Of course, he knew his teacher wouldn't be stupid enough to slaughter the guy before the whole issue of the war was resolved, but the informant might be missing a few pieces before the end. Arms and legs weren't strictly vital, after all.

Baki stood up and bowed to Yondaime. "The Akagizume will take care of this, Yondaime-sama."

Jiraiya looked surprised and pleased to be included in that clan title.

_Yup,_ Kankuro concluded. _He's lonely._ Not that he was surprised. Traveling the world by yourself sounded lonely.

Yondaime nodded. "I trust you to get to the bottom of this. You have my permission to use whatever measures are necessary. Just…" He looked from Baki to Jiraiya. "…be safe. Both of you. I don't want any casualties on our side. The people who are loyal to me are few and precious."

Jiraiya bowed. "You can count on me not to die any time soon. I got through two wars. I can get through this."

"Some would say that means your luck is running out," Baki said.

"Don't be cynical," Jiraiya said. "The luck of the Toad Sage never runs out. Toads are the luckiest creatures on the planet." He grinned. "Didn't you know that?"

Baki hmphed. "Everyone's luck runs out."

"I prefer to think it happens in cycles," Yondaime said gently.

Kankuro smiled at his father, knowing his father referred to their new relationship ending the loneliness and depression.

"If you give your permission, I'll take away Baki-kun right now for some late night espionage," Jiraiya said.

"By all means," Yondaime said, smiling.

Jiraiya grinned and grabbed Baki's sleeve.

Baki looked at him incredulously and gently tugged his sleeve free. He bowed to Yondaime. "Thank you for this important assignment. I will take my leave now to help the Sannin."

"We were making such progress, too," Jiraiya lamented, but his eyes danced with mischief. "Now it's back to 'the Sannin', ne?" He sighed.

Baki snorted. "In a formal situation, you are required a formal title."

Jiraiya gave him a look and bowed exaggeratedly. "Then please allow me to beg for your assistance, Baki-sensei."

Baki grabbed Jiraiya's sleeve and dragged him out of the room.

Kankuro laughed. He couldn't help but be amused at their sleeve-grabbing antics.

Temari snickered as well.

Gaara raised an eyebrow. "I do not see what is humorous about this situation."

"Baki and Jiraiya are fooling around in order to relieve tension," Yondaime explained to his youngest son.

"Fooling around." Gaara looked at their father blankly.

"Joking. Playing. Familiar behavior between two people is often used to break a sense of tension," Yondaime said.

Gaara frowned. "I do not believe anyone has ever 'broken the tension' with me."

"I suspect not," Yondaime said sadly. "I am sorry for that, son. The experience of someone using familiarity to break tension is a common experience that people have. It helps build bonds of friendship."

"Bonds of friendship," Gaara said slowly. "What is friendship?"

Kankuro hoped that was a philosophical query and not a literal one. "Friendship is when people use their strength to help each other out in times of distress."

Gaara's eyebrows lifted. "Use their strength to help each other?"

"Yes," Temari said. "Like when Baki explained how you need to defend us in a battle? That's the same thing. It's like, he's trying to tell you how to be friends with us. So we can mesh better as a team."

Kankuro scratched his head. "Lemme put it this way: being friends with someone you are related to is honorable. Families need to be friendly to each other to fulfill their societal obligations."

Gaara nodded. "I understand. That is because families need to bond." He obviously put that connection together because of what their father had said about bonding.

"Yes," Kankuro said.

Gaara paused. "Why is this a requirement?"

Yondaime sighed. "Families ought to support each other and bond with each other because it is good for the soul, Gaara. I am not sure I can elucidate a better explanation for you than that."

"Soul," Gaara repeated. He frowned and bowed his head, thinking on that.

Kankuro let him.

Everyone ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

**xXx**

Kankuro tried to give his father some space after dinner to be able to journal, but he was worried about his father's ability to cope with Jiraiya's new information about the war.

He ended up pacing in his room until half an hour had passed, then going to his father's door and knocking. His father called for him to come in. He didn't hesitate; he entered immediately and shut the door.

His father was standing, obviously having been pacing himself. That was where Kankuro had picked up the habit, so it was hardly surprising.

"It's a bitter pill to swallow, isn't it?" his father said without prompting. "The idea that a group of people responsible for the village could hide things from us that we need to know. Like the anonymous informant that poisoned their minds."

"I'm sure it will be okay…" Kankuro ventured. "Baki and Jiraiya are working on it. Aren't they trustworthy?"

"They are also two men against a lot of wealthy men with a lot of connections," Yondaime said. "Not to mention the ability to command shinobi within the village. If the Council gives an order, people follow it. Baki could be branded a traitor and put to death. Jiraiya could be executed as well for breaking the treaty. A fair trial with a judge appointed by the Council would not be so fair. Baki would have to become a missing nin in order to escape, probably with my help, and then I would be removed as Kazekage if my involvement were ever found out…"

Kakashi waited through that blast of unfocused anxiety. He decided to try a simple question to help his father pinpoint some of those emotions in there. He'd read that if a person suggested some words to describe the emotions, they became easier for the dissociative person to handle. A lot of the distress came from simply never having learned coping mechanisms or ways to describe the feelings.

"So are you worried?" Kankuro asked.

"Of course I'm worried," Yondaime said. He threw his hands up. "How can I not be worried? There's an anonymous informant sneaking about poisoning the Council against our allies!"

Kankuro took his father's wrists, then slid his hands into his father's and gently squeezed. "Let me help you calm down."

His father looked stricken. "No."

"It's not like anything your father did to you," Kankuro said, making his voice soft. "I'm going to love you until you forget. That's all there is to it. When I'm finished with you, you're not going to remember why you were upset in the first place. And it won't be because you dissociated. It'll be because you're so happy."

His father's shoulders slumped. "You don't have to take responsibility like this."

"If I came to you, and I wanted to be snuggled until I forgot what bothered me, would you do it?" Kankuro asked.

His father reluctantly nodded.

Kankuro tilted his head and kissed his father's lips gently. "Then let me do the same thing for you. Come on, let's get into bed and get snuggling. You'll feel better soon."

His father nodded. "Okay."

Kankuro led his father to the bed and folded the covers down. He waited for his father to climb in, then slid in beside his father and pulled the covers up around them. He lay down on his side. "Now come here," he said tenderly.

His father slid into his arms, nestling against him and clinging.

Kankuro squeezed his father and gently rubbed his father's back. "That's better."

"I'm not sure what I did to deserve this," his father said suddenly.

"What?" Kankuro asked. _The war? You didn't do anything. It just happened because these things happen. _He'd stopped reading into misfortune a long time ago. If he assumed his mother's death happened for a reason, for instance, it would drive him crazy. He couldn't afford to think that way. It was debilitating.

"You loving me," his father said in a plaintive little voice that made Kankuro melt.

Kankuro hugged him tightly and kissed his father's forehead. "You didn't do anything. You just had to be you. You're naturally lovable. Everyone who gets to know you loves you. I know I do." He stroked his father's back slowly.

"Everyone…" His father trailed off and snorted. "That's a good one. Then why did my father hurt me so?"

"Because he never took the time to know you," Kankuro said firmly. "He just decided what he wanted from you and took it, the bastard. He didn't care about you at all. He didn't give you a second thought. You weren't a person to him."

His father nodded slowly. "I suppose that's true…"

"Of course it's true." Kankuro kissed his father's forehead again. "Now you just let me take care of you, and everything will be okay." He'd honor that vow no matter what he had to do to protect his father.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

* * *

In the middle of the briefing for the morning, Kankuro felt a ripple of chakra. His father and Baki stopped talking.

Two ANBU agents appeared, identical in height and weight but wearing different masks. One bore a red wildcat pattern, and the other had a black, stylized pattern that was not recognizable as an animal.

"We have a security breach, Kazekage-sama," the man in the red wildcat mask said.

His partner added, "Last night, an important scroll was stolen from the home of a councilman."

"Who?" Yondaime asked with a frown.

"Jouseki, Kazekage-sama," the agent in the black patterned mask said, bowing.

"Ah." Yondaime appeared to think about this.

Kankuro recalled Jouseki. He was one of the village elders, a man with a narrow face and large pouches under his eyes. Jouseki was one of the few elders who preferred to be clean-shaven as opposed to wearing the typical beard of a man past his fortieth birthday. At forty, one was officially considered an elder in the village. It was a feat for any ninja to reach his fortieth birthday. Most retired at that point.

_So the scroll Jiraiya stole comes from Jouseki's house_. Kankuro wondered how they could turn that information to their advantage.

"What were the contents of the scroll?" Yondaime asked.

"Unknown, Kazekage-sama," the agent answered.

"Distinguishing features?" Yondaime asked.

There was a slight pause this time. "Unknown."

Yondaime visibly suppressed a smile. "Then how are we supposed to find it?"

"I…do not know, Kazekage-sama." The man in the black patterned mask straightened. "I only know that I and my partner were called to Jouseki-sama's house this morning at the report of a security breach. Presumably the scroll was a government document."

"I see," Yondaime said, nodding slowly. "Then this could be serious."

"Yes, Kazekage-sama."

"Instructions, Kazekage-sama?" The man in the wildcat mask asked. "We are unsure how to proceed with this investigation."

Yondaime nodded. "For now, wait. Do nothing. We need to gather more information first. I will bring up this occurrence in the Council meeting today, if Jouseki-san does not. If the scroll is a government document, or full of family secrets, then we will have ANBU handle it. If not, this is a matter for the police. Do you understand?"

"Understood, Kazekage-sama." They bowed and disappeared in puffs of smoke.

"Interesting development," Baki muttered as soon as the two ANBU agents were gone. "Jouseki going straight to ANBU like that…"

"I guess we know where Jiraiya went last night," Temari said.

Baki grinned.

"Indeed," Yondaime said.

"So what does this mean?" Temari asked. "Is Jouseki-sama a traitor?"

"I don't know," Yondaime said. "It is not self-evident. He may merely have been chosen as the person to hide this document from me."

"True," Baki said, nodding. "We shouldn't take any action…yet."

Again, Kankuro was struck by an image of Baki at night, wielding wind blades. _Yeah…that's not scary._ He shuddered slightly. _Jouseki's lucky it was Jiraiya last night._

"Remember that Jiraiya advised us to take action on the informant, and not on our own people," Yondaime said.

"Yeah," Baki grumbled.

Kankuro grinned. His sensei's opinion was obvious.

"Do a patrol, will you?" Yondaime asked pleasantly. "An information gathering exercise. Practice for the children before their big exam. I imagine the first thing my children will be tested on is their information gathering skills. As such, they might need some practice…"

"Yeah!" Temari grinned. "Good idea, Dad!"

Gaara looked offended for a moment. Then his expression cleared. "You wish us to search for clues."

"Yes," Yondaime said. "Any clues you can find about the goings-on of the village."

"This will be hard for me," Gaara said.

"Perhaps you can have your brother perform a genjutsu on you so that you do not appear to be who you are," Yondaime suggested.

Gaara glanced at Kankuro, startled.

Kankuro grinned and raised his hand. "Yo."

Gaara looked disconcerted at this greeting.

"I'll cover ya up, Ototo," Kankuro said. "No worries."

Gaara bowed his head in acceptance, closing his eyes.

"Alright, let's go," Baki said.

They moved out.

**xXx**

Kankuro was no expert at information gathering. He could do it, but what couldn't be taught was how to interpret it. So they learned all they could and filed it away for future use. Assuming there was a use for the things they'd learned.

They reported back to Yondaime, and then they went home for dinner. Baki was sent to retrieve Jiraiya. It wouldn't be out of place to have Jiraiya over for dinner again. After all, he was an important Konoha representative.

Kankuro hoped that his father had more luck today. His father had a great stoic mask, so he wouldn't be able to tell even if his father had unraveled the whole plot. He showered and got dressed in a blue kimono with white kanji on it. He didn't wear it often, but since they were having Jiraiya over again, he felt like getting dressed up.

Privately, he would be sorry when Jiraiya was gone. He was lively in a way most people in Suna weren't. In addition to being clever and silly in turns, he also brought out the lighter side of both Baki and Yondaime. It was nice to see.

At the dinner table, his father definitely conducted himself like someone who had something to tell.

Kankuro was curious, but he allowed his father to wait for everyone to start eating before asking the question he wanted to know. "How did the Council meeting go?"

"Well, Jouseki did not admit what was in the scroll," Yondaime said.

Baki snorted. "Typical."

"Ah, politics," Jiraiya said brightly.

"Dirty, terrible, underhanded politics," Yondaime agreed. "However, Jouseki fully admitted to the scroll's importance to him, and to his desperation to get it back. He claims it holds campaign information that pertains to himself and his supporters in Suna, information that could influence the global market."

"Well, that's true enough," Jiraiya said. He snorted. He was dressed today in red and white; his haori was white with red flames on it.

"It's interesting that he admits this much," Temari said. She frowned and picked at her broccoli.

"It is psychologically revealing," Kankuro said. He nodded and ate a bite of his broccoli and peppers. "He doesn't think he's done anything wrong. He perceives himself to be on the right side of Suna's politics."

"So he's not sneaking around as much as he is just quietly looking out for Suna's future," Jiraiya said.

"Exactly," Kankuro said.

"I have examined the scroll," Yondaime said. "It seems that Jouseki and Sajou have spoken to a representative from a group called the Sound. It is this 'Sound' operative who has spoken to them about Konoha's underbidding."

"Sound." Baki frowned. "I've never heard of them."

"Neither have I," Yondaime said quietly.

"Well, Jouseki and Sajou are bestest buddies," Jiraiya said. "I found that out today. They're often seen drinking together after work. Or should I say…" He hooked the fingers of both hands, turning them into quotation marks. "'Work'."

Baki laughed, choked a little on his rice, and drank some chilled juice to wash it down. "None of that, now. Not while I'm eating. It would be an unintentional assassination."

Jiraiya grinned and laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll have pity on you."

"Thank you," Baki said, taking another drink of juice.

Kankuro was glad to see them getting along well together. He kind of hoped they'd come out of this experience brothers or something.

"Yes, I have noticed that Jouseki and Sajou are close, and often back each other up on proposals," Yondaime said. "They are tight-knit allies."

"Good for them, and bad for us," Jiraiya commented.

Baki nodded. "Hai. They're a pain on a good day." Kankuro supposed that as someone who had sat in on the Council more than once, Baki would know. He ate a bite of fish.

Kankuro thought while he ate, a pall of silence falling over the table.

"So we're no closer to finding out who the informant is," Temari said.

"No," Jiraiya said. "Frustratingly, no." He ate a bite of dinner and narrowed his eyes in thought, gazing over their heads. "I can't put my finger on it, but something's definitely wrong. There have been no strangers except for me lately. That's definitely wrong. Not a flutter of a movement. I've got my toads checking it out, but it appears to be the truth."

"Same here," Kankuro said. "We didn't find anything either." He took a drink of water. "Dad sent us out information gathering just for fun, to see if we could turn up anything. Nothing. No one's acting suspicious, no one new has come to the village, except for you."

"That is suspicious," Jiraiya said. "People always think someone is acting suspicious. Especially when they're asked a leading question. So something's up. This village's tighter than a drum right now."

"Rumors of the war, probably," Yondaime said. "People are on guard."

Jiraiya groaned. "Well, that makes it harder for me."

"By a lot," Yondaime agreed.

"We need something to happen," Temari said.

"I don't want something to happen," Yondaime said.

"But she's got a point," Baki said. "Unfortunately, sometimes the only breaks in the case come when something goes wrong."

"I can't believe you just said that," Jiraiya said. "Do you want to jinx us all?"

"No," Baki said. He shrugged. "I'm just saying how it is."

"I don't want any gods or evil spirits to listen to you," Jiraiya said flatly.

Kankuro grinned. _Superstitious?_ He supposed that Konoha could have different believes than them. It was refreshing to hear a reference to gods and evil spirits as active entities.

Beyond legends about the teakettle of Shukaku and such, there wasn't much in the way of spiritual belief in Suna. Mostly just folklore people used as ghost stories to scare each other. Kankuro himself had a slightly different view on the supernatural, given he'd shared a household with Shukaku since he was eight. Shukaku could be damn creepy.

"That's too bad," Gaara said, eating slowly and methodically with his head down. "Shukaku is probably listening to Baki right now. He always listens."

Jiraiya shuddered and then rubbed his arms. "You gave me the goosebumps."

Gaara shrugged. "It's the truth."

"But you have him under control, though," Temari pointed out. "That's not the same thing."

Gaara glanced up, looking mildly surprised, and also, Kankuro thought, gratified.

"We should map out the network of people allied against you," Baki said to Yondaime.

Yondaime ate calmly. "Maybe. But I'm not sure what good it would do."

"If we knew who they were, we could find the weak link in the chain and interrogate him," Temari said.

"But that still wouldn't stop the war," Yondaime said. "Debunking the information would. And that's why we need to let Jiraiya find the source and drag it out into the open for us."

"Yeah," Jiraiya said. "People are idiots and arrogant assholes, but rarely are they evil. If we can prove that the source that gave them the information about Konoha is up to no good, they'll be back on your side like that." He snapped his fingers. "No one likes to be made a fool of. They'll want to fight for you more than ever then."

Temari sighed. "But that doesn't change the fact that they're jerks."

"Nothing will," Jiraiya informed her.

"Politics is stupid," Temari complained.

"And unfair," Yondaime agreed.

"A popularity contest," Jiraiya said.

"You know, I have a friend in ANBU," Baki said mildly, breaking into the conversation.

"Really? Who?" Jiraiya asked.

"Shouryuu," Baki said.

"Real name or ANBU name?" Jiraiya said.

"ANBU name, of course," Baki said. "He's leading a jonin team right now, but he's still a part of ANBU. Shouryuu is the name he's going by now." Baki gave Jiraiya a crooked smile. "I wouldn't be allowed to tell you the one he used to go by."

After an ANBU agent went back to regular service, they were assigned a new name to protect their identity. Kankuro knew it had happened to Yashamaru. Yashamaru was his uncle's post-ANBU name, and the only name anyone was allowed to refer to him by. Kankuro didn't think he'd ever heard the name is uncle was born with; the whole family had agreed to strike it from the records to protect him.

Yondaime stirred. Kankuro gave his father a curious glance. It seemed his father had forgotten about this fact. "Yes, Shouryuu-kun. You should contact him and inform him of our situation. He might be able to help."

Baki inclined his head. "As you wish, Kazekage-sama."

"This is turning into a real counter-conspiracy," Jiraiya said with amusement.

"These things always do," Yondaime sighed. "But there's no help for it. We need help if we're going to crack down on this informant and make sure he or she never messes up Suna's politics again."

"No, there'll be a new disaster," Baki said.

"Better new than old," Yondaime said. "Especially this one."

Kankuro had to agree. "No more wars."

**xXx**

After bedtime preparations, Kankuro found his father in bed, journal in his lap. His father quickly set it aside and smiled at him.

"Would you like to do something tonight?" Yondaime whispered.

Kankuro's pulse quickened. "Like what?"

"Like something…" Yondaime smiled and blushed.

Kankuro grinned. "Yeah." He felt his cheeks warming up as well. "I would like to." He crossed over to his father silently and climbed into bed, snuggling up in his father's arms. It felt nice to lean back against his father and allow himself to be held the way he'd held his father last night. Nice to take a break.

Yondaime kissed his forehead. "See? You need loving, too."

Kankuro smiled. "I'm not going to deny that."

"We should do something you want to do tonight," Yondaime said.

"Anything?" Kankuro asked. He couldn't help it; there was something he'd always wanted to try, fantasized about. Something he didn't necessarily think his father would be into.

His father let out a small laugh. "Uh-huh."

Kankuro grinned and wrapped his father's arms around him more tightly. "Spank me."

"What?" His father sounded bemused and shocked.

Kankuro looked over his shoulder at his father. "I want you to spank me. Erotically." When he put his mind to it, he could be pretty blunt.

His father blushed brightly. "Okay."

Kankuro was surprised it was that easy. But then, his father didn't say things like 'anything' lightly.

"How would you like me to do that?" Yondaime asked.

"Lightly, and with me over your lap," Kankuro said.

"Like…draped across me?" his father asked uncertainly.

"Hai." Kankuro nodded.

"When…?"

"Whenever you're ready," Kankuro said. He didn't want his father to be uncomfortable. "It doesn't have to be tonight."

"Oh, yes, it does." His father smiled mischievously.

"Why?" Kankuro asked.

"Because I want it to be."

Kankuro blushed. "Oh." I guess he's not too put out about it after all.

"Lucky you wore pajama pants," his father teased softly. "They're easy to pull down."

Kankuro felt a pulse of heat at that. He stirred, tingling. "Oh…yeah. I guess so. Huh."

His father squeezed him and chuckled. "I love you, Kankuro."

Kankuro melted. "I love you, too, Dad."

After a few more minutes of snuggling, they got into position. His father sat cross-legged, and Kankuro lay over him, his hips cradled in the center of his father's lap. He folded his arms under his chest and rested his chin on his arms, comfortably waiting. His breath hitched a little bit in anticipation. "So…Dad…have you ever thought about spanking me before? This way, I mean?"

"No…" Yondaime said slowly. "But then, I'm not opposed to new forms of pleasure."

That response made heat course through Kankuro's body, burning. "Oh…Dad. That was so sexy."

He heard a grin in his father's voice. "Thank you, son. I certainly try to interest you."

"Oh, you don't need to try," Kankuro assured him. "I find you very interesting."

The silence, Kankuro hoped, meant that his father was blushing.

"Are you ready?" his father asked.

"Very," Kankuro said.

His father chuckled. "Alright…" He rubbed Kankuro's bottom through the fabric of Kankuro's clothes.

Kankuro moaned and squirmed. "Feels good, Dad." He started leaking at the continued caresses. "Do you want me to take them off?"

"Let's take our time," Yondaime said, his serene tone of voice belying the growing hardness Kankuro could feel forming against his hip.

_So he is enjoying this_. Kankuro was elated and relieved that his father would get something out of this as well. He'd been worried that this fantasy was only going to interest him. "Alright…" He squirmed back against his father's hand and let out a moan.

Slowly, his father's hand slipped underneath the waistband of Kankuro's pajama pants, moving between the two layers of fabric.

Kankuro whimpered. The increased heat of his father's hand, and the acuteness of the caresses, felt heavenly. He forgot everything else that was on his mind. "Yes, Dad, like that. I like it. Oh, god." Elation that he was getting to experience this for real burst through him, making his nipples hard. "You are so sexy."

"I think you are the sexy one," his father said softly. "You're the one squirming on my lap and arching into these touches."

Kankuro blushed happily. "Pull 'em down. Pull down my underwear."

Yondaime did as he was told, gently pulling down Kankuro's underwear in back, making room to caress Kankuro's bare skin. "I love this part of you," he whispered.

"I love your hand against it," Kankuro said in response, his voice low and husky. He panted slightly. Hot, hot caresses, going so slow.

Yondaime pulled Kankuro's underwear down lower, tugging it down so that it fully exposed his bottom in back. Kankuro felt his boxers catch on the curve of his buttocks. They stayed ridden down like that. His father massaged his bottom with a low hum of satisfaction. "You are so sexy, Kankuro. Especially this part of you. The way you want pleasure for this part is sexy." He trailed his fingertips over Kankuro's sensitive skin. "Sexy, sexy Kankuro."

Kankuro was hard at that. With his pants and underwear down in back but covering his front, he felt uniquely exposed. It made him leak all over the front of his boxers. "Yes, Dad…give it to me." He licked his lips and braced himself forward, arching his back and pressing his hands flat against the bed. He flushed and waited, in that compromising position.

His father massaged his bottom for another few moments, an agonizingly long time, and then swatted Kankuro lightly.

Warm tingles exploded, making Kankuro gasp. His erection buzzed. He squirmed. "More, Dad, more. I need more."

His father leaned down and planted a kiss to his tailbone.

Kankuro moaned deeply. "Dad…"

His father swatted him lightly, sighing in arousal.

Kankuro panted. His body flushed all over, and his stomach tightened. He was all the way hard at that second swat. "More, Dad, more. Keep going. I need to feel it."

The next few minutes melted into soft swats and moans, wetness and heat. His father always waited for him to plead before swatting again, and there was something so sexy about that, Kankuro almost couldn't stand it.

"We could do a sexy routine like this every day," Yondaime whispered. "Every day if you want to. After dinner, we could come up here…and I could spank you."

Kankuro got wetter just at the idea. "Oh, hai."

His father swatted him. "I'll spank you every day."

"Hai…"

Another swat, his father's hand popping him with that sweet, springy gentleness that made tingles explode across Kankuro's body.

"Hai, more."

Another.

Kankuro's hips shuddered. He let out a deep moan and closed his eyes, melting into the feeling. His legs shook. He didn't know how much more of this he could stand. He'd never done it before.

His father caressed his bottom. "Beautiful…"

"Thank you. More…"

Another gentle swat that made Kankuro's erection pulse. "Oh, god. Oh, god. More, Dad, more, faster. Faster…" He shook, hot and tingling and shameless.

As the pace of the swats picked up, Kankuro moaned more and more, until every breath was one steady moan, leaking out in time with his erection twitching and tingling, his hips rocking. "Oh, Dad. More…"

His father complied. "Kankuro, you are sexy…my sexy son…"

Kankuro blushed deeply at that title. Somehow, it made everything perfect. More perfect than it was. "Hai. And you're my sexy Dad."

"Oh, Kankuro." Yondaime moaned.

At the end, Kankuro was rocking into both of his father's hands, one in front stroking his erection and one in back playfully swatting him. He couldn't escape from the pleasure no matter how much he squirmed. As he reached the peak of his pleasure, Kankuro reached out in desperation and slipped his hand into his father's boxers. His father was hot and wet, pulsing.

They stroked each other until they both came, in almost the same moment. Too close to call. Kankuro shuddered on his father's lap, and his father melted back onto the bed, moaning.

Kankuro found himself exhausted and very wet. He barely had the energy to climb off his father's lap and flop down by his father's side.

His father limply ran an arm around him, hugging him.

Kankuro rested his head on his father's shoulder. His legs were numb. It was great. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Yondaime mumbled.

Kankuro smiled. They stayed curled up here for a while before showering together and crawling back into bed, falling fast asleep.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

* * *

In the morning, when Baki came to pick them up from their father's office, Kankuro noticed that Baki was already smiling. _Well, he's more cheerful today_. He wondered if his teacher's change in demeanor had anything to do with Jiraiya. They were living together. He imagined having breakfast with the Sannin was as amusing as sharing dinner.

"So what's Shouryuu like?" Kankuro asked. He was curious about Baki's friend. He considered himself one of Baki's friends. If Baki felt the same way, then his teacher should introduce him to everybody in Baki's circle.

"I think you'll like him," Baki said. "He's cheerful."

Kankuro didn't automatically like cheerful people, though it was true he didn't normally like depressed people. His dad was an exception. Or should he say, he didn't like 'emo' people. People that made a big deal out of being sad and wouldn't shut up, when they didn't have anything to be sad about.

"Are we going to meet him?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Baki said. He looked to Yondaime. "How about we run training exercises with Shouryuu's team today? I can show my genin what a jonin team is like." He grinned.

Temari raised an eyebrow.

Yondaime grinned in return. "An excellent idea. That excuse should provide a smokescreen for the real reason for your visit."

Gaara stopped scowling.

**xXx**

They talked on the way to the training field where they would meet Shouryuu's team.

"Shouryuu is actually a medical ninja," Baki said. "It's rare in the first place for a medical ninja to reach jonin, and to leave ANBU service, since medical ninjas are needed in the field so much. But on top of it, he's an ANBU captain. They don't have such things in Konoha."

"Why not?" Temari asked.

"Tsunade passed a law saying that no medical ninja could lead or take point, because that is a dangerous position to put the medic of a team in," Baki said. "Basically, that means that medical ninjas are taught to fight, but only as a last resort, and the entire team protects them. In order to preserve their healing power."

Kankuro frowned. "That's nice, and all, but if I were trained to be able to fight, I'd wanna fight. Not watch from the sidelines."

Baki nodded. "And the Council believes that we can't afford to waste a teammate by assigning them non-combatant positions on the battlefield. So we don't follow Tsunade's guidelines completely. We've taken a lot of good advice about how to set up field hospitals, but when it comes to not letting our med nins fight…And Tsunade was herself a fighter. So it makes no sense that she would relegate herself to the background."

Kankuro nodded. He tried to work out the system of politics in his head. "And Tsunade knows Jiraiya, right? They're part of that group: the Densetsu no Sannin. Right?"

"Right," Baki said. "The Legendary Three Ninjas."

"What makes them legendary?" Gaara murmured.

"They survived a battle with Hanzo," Baki said.

"Who's Hanzo?" Gaara asked.

Baki laughed, and then sighed. "You're young. And it's complicated. Hanzo is what the ninjas of Amegakure have instead of a jinchuuriki. Or, had. Various reports place him as dead, though we don't know why."

"A jinchuuriki substitute?" Temari asked. She looked uneasy.

Baki nodded. "A man implanted with the poison sac of a black salamander."

"So, a medical experiment." Kankuro was incredulous. The horrors seemed to never end. _What will people do for power?_

"Yeah. More or less." Baki shrugged.

Gaara's expression turned dark, and then introspective. "Like me," he murmured.

"Not like you," Kankuro said automatically.

"I am an experiment," Gaara said.

Kankuro let it drop. It was useless to contradict Gaara about such things, especially since he had no idea how Gaara came to that conclusion.

"So, Shouryuu is a medical ninja, and he leads a team," Temari said, redirecting.

Baki smiled at her. "Yes."

**xXx**

Shouryuu's team was at a training field on top of the cliffs. The air was thin, and the sun bright and beautiful. Kankuro could look down and see a landscape of red stone and shadows. Hawks circled overhead.

As they rose to the plateau of the path, Kankuro caught a glimpse of someone in white moving. His gaze darted around instinctively. He saw four men in white uniforms, sand cloaks that covered their standard issue jonin gear and helped protect them from the sun by providing another insulating layer.

They were sparring. Group sparring in a way that Kankuro had never seen. It seemed like a free for all, but with a kind of orderly grace. Kankuro couldn't figure it out. _Is this what a jonin team is really like?_ he thought, awed.

"Ohayo!" Baki called.

The team stopped sparring and turned towards their visitors, forming an orderly line. They bowed.

Baki bowed, so everyone else followed suit as well. When he straightened, he said, "This is my team. I'm sure you've heard of them and been aware of their successes so far. This is Kankuro, Temari, and Gaara." He introduced them in the order they stood; Kankuro right behind him, Temari at Kankuro's left shoulder, and Gaara hanging back the furthest.

"Nice to meet you," the jonin team said, more or less in unison.

Kankuro noticed the medical ninja right away. His white jacket had an armband with a medical symbol on it, and he had long, green hair tied back in a ponytail. _That must be Shouryuu_. Made sense, really. 'Shouryuu' meant 'green dragon'. The man had green hair… _So maybe he's really fierce? Or ANBU just likes badass names?_

He knew that 'Yashamaru' meant 'fierce beloved guardian'. A 'yasha' was a mythical, part-animal guard to an ancient god.

Shouryuu straightened and grinned. His amber eyes sparkled. "Baki! How good it is to see you."

Baki grinned in return and crossed the barren ground to his friend. "Indeed! It is good to see you as well, Ryuu. It has been a long time."

"That it has." Shouryuu nodded agreeably.

For a moment, they just looked at each other.

Then they burst out laughing almost at the same moment and hugged each other.

Kankuro was surprised and amused.

"Why were you waiting for me –" Shouryuu started.

"I don't know!" Baki protested, still laughing. "I thought you'd go for it and then we'd get this over with –"

"You are still silly," Shouryuu declared.

They patted each other's backs and parted.

Kankuro stepped forward, taking the initiative, though Temari wasn't far behind. "Silly? I don't think I've ever heard Baki described that way."

Shouryuu looked to Kankuro, still smiling fondly. "Well, you don't know him. He's as silly as they come. Silly, and self-sacrificing, and sacrilegious."

Baki grinned. "Especially that last one."

Temari nodded. "Sacrilegious is a good thing to be."

Someone else on Shouryuu's team snorted.

"So, what's up?" Kankuro asked. "Baki said we'd hang out here for a while and watch you guys, so we'd know what being a 'real jonin' is like. That cool?"

"That's cool," Shouryuu said. "You can watch the guys work." He patted Baki's shoulder. "While your teacher and I talk."

Kankuro nodded and found a rock to sit down on. "Sounds cool to me."

"I wanna know what you guys are going to talk about," Temari said.

Shouryuu shrugged and smiled. "Stuff. We've got a lot to catch up on."

"Boring stuff you wouldn't like," Baki teased. He went across to a rocky area on the other side of the plateau with Shouryuu to get a little privacy.

Temari snorted and smiled. "Fine." She stayed standing where she was, crossing her arms and watching the rest of Shouryuu's team.

Gaara took a cue from Kankuro and came over, sitting on the ground next to Kankuro's rock and leaning back against his sand gourd.

Kankuro was flattered; usually Gaara didn't sit by him. "What's up, Ototo?"

Gaara shrugged. He gave Kankuro an appraising gaze, then turned his attention to the three men on Shouryuu's team. They took turns sparring in pairs, the odd man out cycling in when someone scored a hit on the other.

"Will we ever be like that?" Gaara murmured.

"I'm sure we will," Kankuro said. "We'll make it to jonin, won't we? And then we'll be so badass at our jobs that we'll be able to spar like pros with each other. Heck, I'll even learn to deflect your sand, or something. We'll be inseparable."

Gaara raised an eyebrow at this optimism, but didn't comment.

Kankuro remembered the – recent – days when such a statement would have earned him a scathing critique. _This is progress._

A half an hour later, Baki and Shouryuu came back. Shouryuu looked grim, but enlightened. They rejoined Kankuro and Gaara, collecting Temari along the way.

"I see," Shouryuu said quietly. "So we really are in trouble here."

Baki nodded and folded his arms over his chest with a sigh, looking at the ground.

Kankuro nodded as well. "You can see why we want to stop things from getting any worse."

"Yeah." Shouryuu scratched his ear. "I'll talk to my ANBU contacts. See if I can't find some information for you about the Sound. I'll keep you posted."

"Yeah," Baki said. "I appreciate it. These kids are really worried."

"Hn," Gaara said.

Kankuro knew not to take offense. They were called 'the kids' because they were Yondaime's kids, not because they were children. He figured Baki would call them 'the kids' forever.

"Is that it, then?" Kankuro asked. "I mean, is that all we came here for?"

"Yes, and no," Shouryuu said. "I'd still like it if you guys hung around. And if you want, we'll teach you about your nature releases. Baki says that's important. You didn't learn it in school, or something?"

"Temari knows, 'cause she's the oldest, and her sensei on her other team let her learn it," Kankuro said. "With Dad's help, of course. She uses her wind release all the time. But I don't know what mine is, and Gaara doesn't either. Except he's got that megnetism release thing, which is a kind of nature release?"

Shouryuu nodded. "Kind of." He gestured. "You're aware of the five elements, aren't you?"

Kankuro nodded. "Yeah. Fire, Wind, Earth, Lightning, Water."

"Right," Shouryuu said. "And you've learned how everybody has at least one of these releases."

"At least one?" Kankuro asked, startled. "The impression I got was that everybody got only one."

Shouryuu pointed at Gaara. "Not the user of the kekkai genkai. The kekkai genkai is actually the inheritance of more than one nature release at once. That's why it's rare, and doesn't always happen. It's a person with dual natures. It's not something you can learn. You either have it, or you don't. Magnetism release is lightning and earth. In other words, Gaara has two nature releases. And he combines them at once to create his magnetism release. But if he wanted to, he could use each element separately."

Gaara looked interested. "Lightning and earth separately? Why should I want to do that?"

"For one thing, it gives you a greater versatility," Shouryuu said. "You should want to diversify, so you have a jutsu for every situation."

"I can make particles I can control out of anything," Gaara said. "I pull elements from the earth."

"Yes, I know you can," Shouryuu said patiently. "But did you also know that with your fine chakra control and your lightning release, you can perform a technique to restart a man's heart?"  
Gaara's eyes widened. He looked at Shouryuu with redoubled interest and surprise. "I can do something like that?"

Shouryuu nodded. "You can. I'll teach you how, if you want."

"Doesn't that involve stopping someone's heart, first?" Gaara asked.

Shouryuu said, tilting his head, "Why, yes, it does. At first, I'll have you discharge your jutsu into the air, so that I can see you're dispersing the charge properly. Then I'll perform a jutsu on myself that stops my heart from beating. You'll take me out of it with your heart-starting jutsu."

Gaara was plainly stunned. "Why should you do such a thing? You would trust me –"

"Why not?" Shouryuu asked. "You're an ally like anyone else. You're a Sand nin." He pointed at the forehead protector tied at Gaara's side. "If you've earned that, then you're someone I can trust with my life. It's as simple as that."

"Why would you want to stop your heart?" Temari asked.

"Believe me, there are reasons," Shouryuu said. "For instance, it's a lot easier to remove shrapnel if you can get your heart to stop beating for a second."

Temari looked at him with awe. "Whoa…that's hardcore."

Shouryuu nodded. "We med nins need to know how to take care of ourselves on the battlefield, too. Stopping one's heart causes a little pain, but no lasting damage if we do it ourselves in a controlled manner. And we remain conscious long enough to get whatever's stuck in our chests out before the jutsu takes its toll. So it's all about knowing what to do and what your body's limits are." He smiled at Gaara reassuringly. "I know you'll do fine. You already have an impressive amount of chakra control. A little spark will be a cinch."

He took Gaara across the training field to practice.

Kankuro had to admit he was stunned. He stood up, looking to Baki. "That's…quite a guy."

Baki nodded. "I know. Shouryuu is great. That's why when this whole thing about the war started getting more complicated, I immediately thought of him. He's just the kind of person we need on our side helping with this thing."

They split up into pairs.

While Shouryuu was off with Gaara, teaching Gaara medical jutsu, Temari paired off with a man named Yozora, who also turned out to have wind release. He started teaching her some basics of advanced wind jutsu, like how to mold her wind release into new shapes. As a sixteen year old kunoichi, Temari was more than ready to learn such things.

Kankuro found himself paired with Enshi, who was the team's puppet master. Almost every team in Suna had a puppet master on it, since the puppet jutsu was Sand's specialty. Enshi had gotten to the point in his training where he knew a lot of taijutsu to combat his vulnerability in battle. He started teaching Kankuro the concept of using the substitution technique with a puppet in order to flash in close to deliver a punch or a kick, and then flash away again, letting the puppet take one's place repeatedly so there was no opening for the enemy. Kankuro liked that idea a lot. Talk about disconcerting. No one would be able to tell if they were fighting a puppet or a person.

That left Baki sparring with Tsutomu, the taijutsu specialist. The two seemed to be greatly enjoying the match, since they frequently distracted the others by letting out a sudden burst of laughter.

Kankuro found himself looking forward to being a jonin.

**xXx**

After an uneventful dinner, Kankuro showered and got changed for bed, then met his father in his father's bedroom. Today, neither Jiraiya nor Baki had been there, so dinner had been really quiet. Temari was exhausted from her chakra molding lesson, and Gaara was withdrawn as usual. Kankuro himself had been so hungry that he mainly focused on shoveling food into his stomach. Now, after his shower, he felt energized. He'd had time to digest his food, and time to realize how awesome his day had been.

When he entered his father's room, his father was still dressed in his day clothes, minus the black martial arts jacket. Yondaime sat on the bed, writing something in his journal. He finished up and stowed it.

"No need to rush for me," Kankuro said. "I'll come back if you have more stuff to write."

His father shook his head. "No, that's fine. I was done anyway." He gave Kankuro a smile.

Kankuro wasn't completely convinced, but he let it go. "Alright…"

"Did you have fun today?" his father asked.

Kankuro grinned and nodded. "Lots of fun. We met Shouryuu, and Shouryuu's team is really cool. I like them a lot. I think they're great allies to have."

"I agree," Yondaime said. "Shouryuu commands three of our best men." He got up and walked over to the closet, presumably to change attire for the night.

"Enshi taught me some cool taijutsu tricks to use with Karasu," Kankuro said. "And Shouryuu taught Gaara medical jutsu. Did you know Gaara was interested in that? I didn't. Maybe Gaara would make a really great med nin someday. We should ask him about the classification change. I mean, like Baki said this morning, med nins don't have to stand by and watch everyone else fight. This isn't Konoha. We don't have to abide by the same rules. So I think we should. Get Gaara trained as a med nin, I mean. He seems to be really into it."

Yondaime paused in the act of choosing a sleeping yukata and nodded slowly. "That would make sense, since Yashamaru was his guardian. I know that he idolized Yashamaru. That's why…" He frowned, looking troubled.

"Why what happened doesn't make any sense," Kankuro said quietly. "I know." He squeezed his father's arm. "I felt that, too. I know that Gaara loved Yashamaru. I don't know why it happened that they tried to kill each other. I don't think Gaara started it, though. I mean, how could he have? He was the child and Yashamaru was the adult. I still think after all this time that it was somehow Yashamaru's fault."

Yondaime sighed. "I won't argue with you about it. I don't know any more than you do about what went wrong that night. I know…it was my orders that got Yashamaru killed, though. That much I am sure of. So your uncle – and Karura's brother – is dead because of something that I did." He reached out and trailed his fingers over the sleeve of his silky maroon yukata, a pensive gesture that brought him no closer to getting dressed for the night.

"There's that guilt again," Kankuro said. He crossed the space between them and pulled his father into his arms. "Let me love that out of you, right now."

Yondaime didn't protest. He held onto Kankuro, rocking them gently back and forth. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Me neither," Kankuro said, with a grin that he hoped would lighten the mood.

His father chuckled.

"Now get on the bed, and ake off your shirt," Kankuro said, playfully ordering.

"Hai." Yondaime squeezed him and then obediently lay down in bed on his back, taking off his three layered shirts and exposing his chest.

Kankuro grinned. "Now take out the lube and rub it on your nipples. I think I like watching you work."

Yondaime blushed deeply and looked at Kankuro with wide eyes, but complied. He pulled the drawer open and took out the lubrication, uncapped the bottle, and rubbed his nipples with strawberry flavored oil. He bit his lip, his eyes rolling closed, and let out an involuntary moan.

Kankuro was extremely turned on. "That's it, Dad…" He approached the bed slowly, taking in the sight before him. He was hard enough to make his underwear uncomfortable. "Rub it in good for me." He stood over the bed before he knew it, watching with wide-eyed arousal and fascination as his father pleasured himself. His nipples got darker and redder. Kankuro sucked in his breath slowly.

As his gaze traveled down, he saw a trapped erection tenting out his father's pants.

Kankuro decided that there had been enough watching. He climbed on top of his father, straddling his father's hips, and licked, trailing his tongue upwards to catch on his father's nipple. He moaned at the hardness of his father's nipple, the way it indented his tongue. He lapped up the strawberry and coconut flavors, reveling in the way his father moaned and squirmed underneath him.

"Kankuro," Yondaime murmured, husky. "Kankuro…yes…" He let out another moan.

Kankuro grinned to himself and sucked on his father's nipple gently. "Oh, I am never stopping now. You gotta know that. You can't make such delicious noises and get away."

His father let out a surprised noise and arched his back, pressing into Kankuro's mouth.

Kankuro moaned and mouthed his father's nipple, his face growing hot. He took his time lapping up all the lubrication on his father's chest, cleaning both nipples, and the space in between.

In a fit of mischief, he took his father's hand and gently sucked off the lubrication on his father's fingers.

His father let out a surprised cry that nearly undid Kankuro then and there. Arousal surged through him, soaking the front of his boxers through in an instant. He moaned on his father's fingers. "Oh, Dad. Oh, Dad!"

"I should spank you," his father whispered. "I should make you cry out like the way you're making me cry out." His voice was filled with arousal and desperation.

Kankuro's heart skipped a beat, and his bottom tingled. "Ah…hai."

His father shifted, sitting up and having Kankuro lie across him. He pulled Kankuro's pajama pants and boxers down, and planted kisses on Kankuro's bottom.

Kankuro squirmed, surprised and turned on. The gentle feeling made him leak steadily.

His father kissed and licked his bottom until he was crying out, his erection twitching with the force of his arousal. Then his father massaged his bottom in slow circles. Kankuro moaned deeply. He couldn't get away if he wanted to; his whole body was collapsed in pleasure. His father traced the cleft of his rear with one gentle finger, and Kankuro almost came. His breath hitched in a loud moan.

"Are you ready for me?" Yondaime whispered.

"Hai…" Kankuro's hips shifted. "Oh, hai…"

"It makes me so hard to hear you say that," his father whispered, and before Kankuro could respond with more than a blush, his father popped him gently on the bottom.

A burst of hot tingles stole Kankuro's breath. His hips quivered. He panted and moaned loudly.

His father landed gentle swats on his bottom, rubbing him after every stoke, and Kankuro was soon a moaning mess, his pajama pants soaked through in front with the dampness from his erection.

"Come," Yondaime whispered. He rubbed, and then popped Kankuro again. "So sweet. Come. So special. Come for me, sweetheart. Come for Touchan." Every time he said 'come', he gently popped Kankuro on the bottom with his hand.

Kankuro couldn't possibly resist under these circumstances. There was something unbearably sexy about being called 'sweetheart', about his father being 'Touchan'. His boxers flooded with more wetness, and he let out a heady moan, shaking all over.

His father pulled him close, cradling Kankuro to his chest like the most precious possession he owned, and Kankuro drank it in. Once he was fully recovered, he kissed his father's nipples, then slid down and kissed his father's erection, freeing it. He licked and sucked until his father came, and then they both stumbled to the shower.

They both ended up dressed in two of Yondaime's sleeping yukata, and fell asleep curled up together under the blankets in Yondaime's bed, dazed and flushed and happy.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

* * *

Kankuro wondered how long it would take Shouryuu to contact his ANBU sources and get the information they needed.

As it turned out, that time frame was two days. On Saturday morning, Baki announced, "Shouryuu has sent me a message indicating that he has the information we require."

Yondaime smiled. "Then you should go collect it."

Baki bowed. "Yes, Kazekage-sama."

Kankuro smiled, bemused at the way that Baki and his father continued to do this odd dance of formality around each other. They seemed to react in harmony with each other, but in a way Kankuro couldn't understand. He wondered if that was what it was like to know someone for a long time. If people gained a secret language, a secret way of communicating, that other people couldn't fathom.

He hoped someday he would have a language like that with Gaara. For the time being, his brother was mostly a mystery, even though Gaara had begun to open up to him.

"Awesome." Temari grinned. "Does that mean we get to spar with the jonin again?"

Baki grinned back at her in return. "I think it does." He looked to Yondaime. "How about it, 'Dad'?"

Yondaime nodded. "I think that is a good idea. Get some practice in, and maybe learn a few new tricks."

"Awesome," Kankuro said. He hadn't had a chance to find out what his nature release was last time. He was hoping he'd get a second chance. He was dying to know what he'd been born with. It could be anything.

Even Gaara looked pleased. He nodded, not scowling.

**xXx**

They ended up on the cliffs again. Baki went off with Shouryuu, while the rest of the jonin team entertained 'the kids', as per Baki's joking request.

Yozora, the jonin with wind release who had helped Temari last time, paired off with Kankuro. Temari ended up with Enshi, learning how tough it was to fight a jonin puppet master. Gaara paired off with Tsutomu and learned some basic taijutsu. It was a radical change to see Gaara worried and struggling, but Kankuro considered it a good sign that Gaara wasn't snapping out with his sand to stop the fight. That showed a good level of trust.

The first thing Yozora did was pull out a piece of square paper and hand it over with the instruction to run his chakra through it.

Kankuro did, and the paper immediately burst into flame, burning into cinders in the blink of an eye.

He didn't have to be told what that meant.

"No way!" Kankuro exclaimed, feeling a grin split his face. "Fire release? That's super useful!" He was pumped. Having fire release meant he could totally help Temari in battle when the puppet jutsu wasn't a good idea. And at fourteen, his chakra channels were more than developed enough to learn some pretty badass techniques. Before he'd been transferred onto Baki's team, his sensei had just agreed to test him. Being transferred in the middle of something like that had been a bummer.

Yozora laughed, seeming happy with Kankuro's enthusiasm. "Wanna try out some collaborative moves? I know a few fire release techniques. The first one you'll learn is how to blow fire, like a dragon."

"Awesome!" Kankuro pumped his fist. He couldn't wait.

**xXx**

By the time Baki came back with Shouryuu, Kankuro was sweaty, tired, and very happy with his results. He'd learned how to blow fire in the space of an afternoon practice. Yozora praised him for being a quick learner.

Baki gathered them all together. Temari and Gaara looked similarly worn ragged. "Ryuu's going to summarize what he told me, so you get to stay in the loop."

Kankuro nodded. He was grateful for the consideration. After all, they were all adults upon graduation. They deserved to be treated as such.

"Sound is an independent group of ninjas like Akatsuki," Shouryuu said.

Kankuro looked to Baki. He didn't get the reference. However, he saw Baki understood.

Shouryuu continued. "My contact says that they've been working secretly for a while as a group, avoiding detection. Now they've seized a country, and are reshaping it into a suitable base of operations. That would be the Land of Rice, north of Fire. They're calling it the Land of Sound, and they've founded their own ninja village. Sources say they plan to enter the Chunin Exam."

Anyone could enter the Chunin Exam if they wanted; if one had a team. The Chunin Exam was not strictly regulated as far as who could enter. The regulation all happened within the exam itself: any unworthy persons would be weeded out with extensive testing.

"So they're a bunch of missing nin grabbing at legitimacy," Baki murmured, frowning.

Shouryuu nodded. "Yes. But their political backing, and just how they've managed to survive this far, is unclear. Everyone needs a leader, but their leader remains hidden so well that no one can figure out who he – or she – is."

"Who's your source?" Baki asked. "Anyone I know?"

Shouryuu smiled. "You know normally I can't reveal. However, I can tell you it is a certain, unnamed person."

Kankuro didn't get it. He looked at his teacher in surprise as Baki suddenly chuckled.

Shouryuu grinned. "You get it." He saluted. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Baki gestured. "Alright, get back to work."

"Hai." Shouryuu bowed and rejoined his team, running them through basic exercises. 'Basic' used loosely, since their exercises were miles ahead of anything Kankuro could do with his team.

"A certain person?" Kankuro asked, turning his attention to Baki. "I don't get it."

Temari and Gaara drifted off to sit down in the shade.

Baki grinned. "The code name of the person who provided the information is Boushi." 'Boushi' was a word that could mean, 'a certain unnamed person', as well as being a name in its own right.

Kankuro wanted to smack his forehead. "Oh…"

"Yeah." Baki squeezed his shoulder. "ANBU loves word play. Remember that if you ever decide to join. You'll have to put up with a lot of puns."

Kankuro thought about the masks and the clearly bordering-on-suicide level of the missions. "No, thanks." Then he paused, curious. "Do you know many people in ANBU?"

Baki shrugged. "Maybe half a dozen. It's hard not to when you get to be my age. By the time you're thirty, you'll know a lot of friends who enlisted in ANBU, too. It's a popular profession for the skilled. A lot of pay and a lot of adventure to go along with it. Lots of people become ninjas to see the world, and ANBU virtually guarantees that. It's a tour of service with a lot of honor, too, which people also crave."

"But you wouldn't do it," Kankuro concluded.

Baki gave him a sly smile. "How do you know I haven't already done my duty?"

"Because your name is still Baki," Kankuro teased in return.

Baki laughed. "Fair enough." He paused for a moment, then answered, "I don't think I'd do it. I think the anonymity would get me."

Kankuro nodded. "That seems fair enough. I don't think I could do it, either."

Baki smiled at him gratefully and squeezed his shoulder.

Kankuro felt like they were closer than ever. It was a warm feeling in his chest.

"Let's go home and tell this information to your father," Baki said.

Kankuro nodded. "Hai."

They collected Temari and Gaara and left, with thanks to Shouryuu.

"Any time," Shouryuu said. "You know, I'm right here. Call on me more often."

Baki made a face. "I will. I tend to get self-absorbed. I know."

"You do," Shouryuu agreed with a smile. "You need to remember that you have friends."

Kankuro found that a curious comment. He filed it away for future reference.

**xXx**

Baki summarized the information for Yondaime.

"So Sound is an independent group of ninjas intent on forming their own nation," Yondaime said.

"Yes," Baki said. "According to Shouryuu's sources."

Yondaime nodded. "Very well, then. I will put that information to use."

"What does it mean?" Kankuro asked.

"For now, it means the Council has decided to back a group of revolutionaries," Yondaime said. "They must think they have something to gain. Also, if I don't miss my guess, Sound is responsible for the Council's decision to attack Konoha. Sound has contacted the Council with information suggesting Konoha is traitorous, and so we go to war." Yondaime shrugged. "It seems unbelievable that the Council would trust such people, but then, people with whom we do not share a past of hostility might seem more credible than the Leaf."

Baki looked displeased. "Hmph."

"I agree," Yondaime said.

"So we have to shut Sound down somehow?" Temari asked. "Or do we just have to prove they're slime?"

"I think we just have to prove they're slime," Kankuro said. He looked to their father. "Right, Dad?"

Yondaime nodded. "Right. Something that Jiraiya may be able to do, now that we know who they are."

"Or it might get harder than ever," Baki said.

"So cynical," Yondaime teased.

"So realistic," Baki countered. "Knowing who they are doesn't mean anything. We have to know how to contact them, lure them out into the open, and then reveal them for the snakes they are."

"Yes…" Yondaime stroked his chin. "Perhaps it's time to cooperate. Jiraiya can only do so much. It would be easier if we gave him an inside track to this whole issue."

"Inside track?" Baki asked.

"I am suggesting that we reveal what we know of the Council's collaboration with Sound and insist on being let in," Yondaime said.

Kankuro could have sworn Baki paled.

All Baki said was: "Oh."

Kankuro wondered why it was such a big deal.

"If I can, I'll appoint you as a representative between Sand and Sound," Yondaime said. "That way, we can have you spy on them."

Baki nodded slowly.

"I know it's not your specialty, but I was thinking perhaps Jiraiya could give you some tips," Yondaime said gently.

Baki nodded again.

Kankuro understood why Baki was reluctant now. Being a spy in contact with a group of unknown strength and intent would be dangerous. Very dangerous. _So much for not being ANBU. This is practically an ANBU mission. He must have known what Father was suggesting from the start._

"I'll do it," Baki said. "If it helps lure these people out into the open where we can challenge them, I'll do anything."

Yondaime inclined his head. "Thank you."

Baki shrugged. "It's my job. My job is to do everything I can to protect you. And Suna."

Kankuro thought the order of those two items was telling.

"I appreciate it," Yondaime said softly. "And I wouldn't like to lose you to this thing."

Baki inclined his head. "I'll do my best, Kazekage-sama."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation.

**xXx**

When dinner time rolled around, Baki couldn't find Jiraiya to tell him he was invited. They had to eat dinner without him.

However, Yondaime insisted upon saving a plate of sushi for the Sannin. "If he's working, he's got to be hungry."

Kankuro found himself wishing Jiraiya would never leave. In the space of a short time, both Baki and Jiraiya had become family. He was getting too used to the family dynamic to want anything to change.

After dinner, instead of their usual routine, Yondaime and Baki stayed downstairs to wait for Jiraiya.

"You're invited to wait with us," Yondaime said. "Why don't you share a glass of plum wine and hang out?"

Kankuro was thrilled. "Okay." He joined his father and Baki on the sofa, each of them sitting on either side of Yondaime. He took the spot on the left, for once not worried about having people to his right. He reclined against the arm of the sofa and watched them both. Baki poured everyone their plum wine and left the bottle on the kotatsu table nearby. This was unusual, since etiquette usually demanded that everyone serve each other, but Kankuro didn't think much of it.

After all, Baki had probably been made aware of his sensei's habit of medicating stress with alcohol and simply took over serving as a matter of protecting Yondaime.

About fifteen minutes into some harmless small talk, Kankuro felt a familiar presence join them, even before he saw the Sannin walk into the room.

Jiraiya sat on the arm of the couch and helped himself to a swig of plum wine from the bottle.

Baki sighed. "It's yours."

Kankuro snickered.

Jiraiya grinned. "Thank you."

"It's a gift," Yondaime said wryly.

At times like these, Kankuro felt privileged to be considered an adult. He couldn't imagine the indignity of being shooed away from this gathering and told to go to bed.

Jiraiya took another drink. "So, what's the news on your end? I assume you have some."

Baki nodded. "We have information on the Sound."

Jiraiya went still. "Do tell," he drawled, but his expression was tense with interest.

"Apparently, they're a group of ninjas who've taken over the Land of Rice to use it as a base," Baki said. "They're formerly missing nin, but now that they've got their own country…"

"Their allegiance to each other is valid," Jiraiya mused. "I see. Clever." He took a sip from the bottle of plum wine. "So…they're going to take over Suna? Or Konoha?"

Kankuro thought that was a bit of a leap. He leaned against his father and took a sip of his own plum wine. "Why?" he asked simply.

Jiraiya shrugged. "I dunno. In my experience, people willing to take over a country rarely stop at one. Countries are like ramen chips for those people. You can't have just one."

Baki snorted.

"Isn't that what world domination is all about?" Jiraiya challenged. "Greed? And if we didn't have urges for such things, there wouldn't be wars. It's not enough to defend. We as ninjas have a deeply rooted history of violence that goes back to the samurai. Like the Land of Iron. People say it's a sleeping volcano."

Kankuro hadn't heard much about the Land of Iron. Only that it was the only nation still controlled by a Shogun, with the troops trained as samurai instead of ninjas. "A sleeping volcano?"

Jiraiya nodded. "Because samurai are programmed to control and conquer. It's in their blood." He looked contemplative. "Like all of us. Really, we're all samurai at heart."

Kankuro had never really thought about it before. But he supposed that since samurai had been around longer than ninjas, Jiraiya's statement was technically true. The ninjas had evolved from humble families in order to defend themselves against the samurai and take back the land they owned for themselves instead of suffering tyranny and unfair taxes. In the end, the humble people had turned into conquerors themselves. _Is it in our blood, after all?_

"That's an interesting statement for someone who believes in world peace," Baki said wryly.

"I want world peace," Jiraiya countered. "I don't believe in it without any sacrifices. For one thing, we have to sacrifice the calling to our deeper natures and embrace the higher natures."

Kankuro recognized that as the basic philosophy of the desires of the earth versus the desires of the heavens. Godly or heavenly ideals were supposed to be better and gentler. As opposed to baser and fiercer. In that framework, demons were earthly, and priests were heavenly. It made sense, basically. But the further you got into religious texts, the weirder it got.

"Be that as it may," Yondaime said mildly, "the fact is that Sound wants Sand to attack Leaf."

"And we should pretend to give our allegiance to them wholeheartedly so I can lure their agent out into the open," Baki said. He nodded. "We've already decided that this afternoon."

Jiraiya went wide-eyed. "Whoa. Isn't that kind of dangerous?" He looked at Baki with worry.

_So they have gotten close,_ Kankuro thought. He took a sip of his plum wine. "Yeah. It's dangerous. No one's saying that it isn't. But Dad thinks that if Baki can get this guy who's badmouthing Konoha to show up, we can capture him and pump him for information and stuff. Or you can."

Yondaime nodded. "The plan was basically to help you out, since it's always easier to unravel something from the inside."

"That's generous of you, but…" Jiraiya trailed off and looked at Baki.

Baki shifted uncomfortably. "I already agreed to it, so you don't have to go all worried ototo on me."

Jiraiya sighed. "Whatever. Just be careful. I'm not gonna like it if I find your corpse, Niisan."

Yondaime didn't seem surprised that they had shifted their relationship from that of cousins to brothers.

Kankuro thought it was interesting that Baki was the one being called 'Niisan', even though he was the younger of the two by a lot. _But, I guess it has more to do with personality and dynamics than it does with age. Especially since they get to pick what their relationship to each other is. _

That reminded him of how he was basically in charge of his relationship with his father, even though he was the younger one.

"We saved sushi for you," Yondaime said casually. "If you want to wash down your wine with some food."

Jiraiya grinned. "How kind of you. I think I'll help myself, then." He walked out of the room with the bottle and came back with both his plate of sushi and a new bottle of plum wine.

Yondaime took it, bemused. "I didn't put another bottle in the refrigerator." The bottle had condensation on it.

"I cooled it with a jutsu I learned in Shimogakure," Jiraiya said casually. Shimogakure was in the Land of Frost.

Baki snorted with laughter. "You never cease to find domestic uses for perfectly dignified jutsu, do you?"

Jiraiya grinned. "No."

They stayed up for a long while, mostly talking about the Third Shinobi World War and reminiscing. Kankuro listened in near silence, fascinated. He learned that his mother had known Jiraiya and Minato as well. Somehow, in spite of the logic of it, this still surprised him. _Of course she would have been involved, supporting father._

**xXx**

After bidding Baki and Jiraiya good night, at what had to be at least one in the morning, Yondaime and Kankuro went upstairs to Yondaime's room to sleep for the night.

They ended up fully awake, side by side in bed. Yondaime stared at the ceiling. "Do you think my plan is foolhardy, Kankuro? Is it unwise to risk the life of someone who loves you so much?"

Kankuro gave an internal start at the phrasing of that question. His heart skipped a beat. But outwardly, he remained calm. "Well, I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do…"

His father smiled sadly. "But that's my flaw, you see. Risking others, those I love. People who never get to enjoy the high ideals of their actions."

Kankuro reached out under the covers and clasped his father's hand, squeezing it gently. "If you're talking about Mom, she agreed to it. She couldn't have just laid there and let them put Shukaku in her along with Gaara. All I've heard of her is how fiery she was."

"Yes, but I was her husband," Yondaime said.

"So you oppressed her," Kankuro said sarcastically.

Yondaime cringed. "No…well…" He stared up at the ceiling with a guilty expression.

"It's easy to convince yourself that when you're so consumed with guilt that you let go of reality in order to flog yourself," Kankuro said.

Yondaime's gaze shot to his son. Then his cheeks flooded with red, and he smiled wryly. "You certainly have a way of putting things."

Kankuro squeezed his father's hand again. "I try. I try to make you see how foolish it is to hurt yourself over things that aren't your fault."

"I'm so used to everything being my fault," Yondaime murmured, "that I don't even fight it anymore."

"Well, you should start," Kankuro said. He nodded to himself. "And I'll help. If I see anyone blaming you unfairly, I'll correct them. Then they'll have to deal with me. And Karasu. And Kuroari."

His father laughed. "You couldn't actually attack them…"

Kankuro raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't I? They insulted my father. Isn't there a code of conduct for that somewhere?"

Yondaime looked at him incredulously. "The dueling system. You'd bring that up, to defend my honor?"

"You're my husband now, aren't you?" Kankuro asked flatly. "And my father. I'd say I ought to be doubly protective."

Yondaime blushed and fell silent, awed.

Kankuro smiled, satisfied with the reaction he'd gotten. _That's right. If anyone attacks you, I'll hurt them. And that's if I'm in a good mood. If I'm not…crunch crunch. Kuroari will eat them. Suckers. They'll learn to be more respectful when they're being torn limb from limb by a puppet._

For all he knew, he'd be able to sign on as a third bodyguard when he passed the Chunin Exam. He knew he'd try. He wanted to protect his father all his life. If he didn't get accepted the first time, heck, he'd just try again, until he got to stand among his father's bodyguards as a full-fledged member of his father's guard.

He went to sleep still holding his father's hand.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Monday came around too soon. Kankuro knew his father felt that way, and he couldn't help it, either. Because Monday was therapy day with Yuna, and he would have to help his father explain about the dissociation his father was suffering.

Kankuro just hoped his father had made the appointment in the first place. Otherwise…

Then he remembered that Yuna said they could drop in if there was an emergency, and felt better. He'd drag his father to therapy anyway. Because that was where his father needed to go.

The morning passed in a blur, leaving Kankuro toweling his hair dry in the bathroom after his shower, wondering what he was going to say to broach the subject with Yuna. He doubted his father would. His father seemed to want to hide the dissociation. Even to him, his father had minimized it as no big deal.

Kankuro frowned. _But it is a big deal, and I want it taken care of_. He had no idea how to take care of dissociation, but that was why they needed to go to Yuna. _Mafumi-san said Yuna was a dissociation specialist. _

**xXx**

At the appointment, Kankuro was surprised when his father spoke first.

Yondaime said hesitantly, "My son has spoken to me about the possibility that my experiences at home as a child contributed to a condition known as dissociation. Mafumi-san suggested that you would be a good expert to start with."

"Dissociation, ne?" Yuna looked thoughtful. "Do you know what dissociation is, Yondaime?"

Yondaime shook his head. "Not really…my son explained it as my mind taking me away from things, but I'm not sure I understand what he's talking about. It's true that I have sometimes forgotten things. But I am sure that everybody does that."

"It depends," Yuna said absently. She shook her head slightly and focused on him. "Can you remember the first time your father abused you?"

"I can remember being very small when it all started," Yondaime said. "It wasn't until I was seven years old that he broke my arm, but until that…I thought that I was experiencing every day child angst."

"Like what?" Yuna asked, prompting him with a small, friendly smile.

"Oh, you know," Yondaime said. "I wouldn't like to be spanked. But then, I did do something wrong, didn't I? Those sorts of things."

"How about a memory in which he made you cry?" Yuna asked. "Or when he frightened you. Can you remember that?"

Yondaime hesitated. "I…I'm not sure. Everything he did was equally frightening for a while. As I said, it wasn't until I was older that I began to have some serious fear of him."

Yuna nodded slowly. "I see…"

Kankuro didn't. This was a different story from his father than the impression he had gotten before. Especially about spanking. _If it wasn't that bad, why did you never spank us as kids? _

"When was the first time you felt serious fear of him?" Yuna asked.

Yondaime stared at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Your father," Yuna said.

"My father what?" Yondaime asked.

Kankuro frowned. Did he really just space out on us? "Dad…we were talking about your father."

Yondaime frowned. "I don't remember starting…" He trailed off, as if catching himself.

Yuna asked, "Do you remember that the appointment has started, Kazekage-sama?"

Yondaime furrowed his brow. "This is the start of the appointment. Yes, of course I remember that."

Yuna nodded slowly. "This is dissociation."

"What is?" Yondaime asked.

Kankuro knew his father. His father was not prone to making excuses, not prone to trying to duck out of conversations and responsibilities, and was definitely not an actor. The few times he'd tried to get his father involved in stage rehearsals – plays were a normal part of a puppet master's training – his father had been terrible. Even at kabuki, which had a different style of delivering one's lines. He was an uncertain, nervous reader with a poor sense of which way he was supposed to face for the audience.

"Let's talk about your father," Yuna suggested.

Yondaime immediately withdrew, a guarded look coming into his eyes. "I don't want to talk about my father."

Kankuro suddenly despaired of ever getting his father through a therapy appointment that had to do with his grandfather. _It's too hard. He just can't do it. _

"So you have deeper issues that have to do with your father," Yuna said placidly.

Kankuro noted that in spite of her calmness, his father was still nervous. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about this. We can go home."

His father didn't respond to either of them. He sank back in his chair, folding his arms over his stomach.

"Do you feel that to tell on him, you're going to get in trouble?" Yuna asked in that same calm tone.

Yondaime nodded quickly.

"Do you really not want to talk about your father?" Yuna asked gently.

Yondaime nodded again, looking at her earnestly.

Yuna smiled.

Yondaime let out his breath.

"That's okay," Yuna said. "I'm going to send you next door to the art therapy center. Okay? You can draw some pictures for me. Whatever you want. I'll hang it up in my office."

Yondaime looked surprised and relieved. Then he frowned. "How will anyone know who they're from?"

Yuna smiled again. "You'll sign them for me, of course. Art has to be signed by the artist."

"Okay!" Yondaime hopped up from his chair and crossed the room, taking Kankuro's arm and pulling him to his feet on the way.

Kankuro was confused. He couldn't quite comprehend what was going on.

His father paused at the door and looked over his shoulder at Yuna. "Can I take Kankuro?"

Yuna stood up and bowed. "Of course you can."

"Yay!" Yondaime beamed at his son. "Let's go!" He opened the door, and then paused one last time. "You said next door, right?"

"Yes," Yuna said. "The door will be labeled Art Therapy – also Rainbow Room."

Yondaime chuckled. "That's a cute name."

"Yes, it is," Yuna agreed. She crossed over to her bookshelf and ran her hand along the glossy spines of the books, absently searching for something. "Take as long as you need. I'll be here. I'm just going to be reading a book."

"Okay." Yondaime smiled at her, and then took Kankuro out into the hallway. They found the room without any difficulty. It turned out to be big, full of shelves and books, toys in a corner for toddlers, and featuring a kotatsu table near the middle of the room surrounded by tubs of art supplies and paper.

Yondaime went straight to the kotatsu table and sat down, digging out the art supplies.

Kankuro followed, curious. He sat down diagonally across from his father.

"What should I draw, Kankuro?" Yondaime asked.

"Yuna-san said whatever you want," Kankuro said.

Yondaime frowned at the light blue paper he'd dug out. Then, without any further conversation, he started a complex crayon drawing with lots of red and black.

Kankuro watched, impressed with his father's art skill. It was rough, like an oil painting would be, all impressionistic blocks of color, but a street scene appeared. A whirling dervish – a minor kind of sand storm – was in the middle of the street, and the buildings along the street were being destroyed.

Yondaime wore down the crayons quite a bit and had to peel off paper in order to finish the drawing. He slid it towards Kankuro and pulled out a white piece of paper as soon as he finished the first picture. He immediately launched into a picture with a lot of large blue flowers in the foreground – they looked like blue poppies to Kankuro, or tulips – and a tiny woman standing in back. Yondaime drew her in indigo crayon, and left her face a blank white space with two eyes. Kankuro found something creepy about that. He suppressed a shiver.

"Really good, Dad," he said softly.

Yondaime seemed not to hear him. His father was already on another sheet of paper, this one a light green. He crayoned something in shades of brown and orange, smearing in white and maroon at the end. Kankuro recognized it as the main building of the Academy. There was a man standing in front of it wrapped up in light layers of clothing, almost looking like a mummy.

Kankuro had to smile. _That's the Academy uniform, alright_. All the teachers wore that. Kankuro suddenly wondered if this was Basa-sensei, the man who had taught his father as a child.

Yondaime heaved a sigh and hung his head, suddenly looking exhausted. "That's all," he said softly.

Kankuro took his hand. "Okay." He squeezed his father's hand gently. "Let's go back to Yuna-san, okay?"

Yondaime nodded. Then he brushed his hand through his hair and methodically signed and dated each drawing with the sharp side of a black crayon. He stacked his three drawings and rose, taking them with him in one hand without relinquishing Kankuro's hand.

They shut the door to the art therapy center and turned off the lights. Kankuro saw his father's expression transform into apprehension. _Is he afraid that Yuna-san's not going to like his pictures?_

When they entered Yuna's office, she was at her desk in the far corner of the room reading something so thick Kankuro thought it had to be a textbook. She looked up and set her book down on her desk. Then she stood. "Come in."

Yuna came out from behind her desk, smiling. "How did it go?"

Yondaime bit his lip and came forward, letting go of Kankuro's hand. He held his drawings in both hands. "I…" He took a deep breath. "…made you some drawings." His voice got very quiet.

"I'd like to see them," Yuna said. "Will you show me?"

Yondaime nodded.

Yuna sat down in her dark navy chair and left them their two habitual chairs. "Let's sit down," she suggested. "You can hold them up for me."

Yondaime relaxed somewhat at that. He glanced at Kankuro with a small smile and sat down in his chair, holding his drawings in his lap.

Kankuro crossed the room, relieved at the breaking of the tension, and sat down again. He scooted his chair just a little closer, so he could reach across and hold his father's hand if he needed to.

His father held up the first picture he'd drawn. "This is a sand storm."

"It's very nice," Yuna said admiringly. "I like how you used the colors."

Yondaime blushed. "No…it's nothing."

Kankuro noticed the shyness and the politeness. It was customary to defer a compliment. His father had done so, but without the traces of guilt or shame Kankuro was used to. _So he is really proud of his drawings. He's just being polite._ That was a huge change from his father's attitude about his drawing and poetry last time. But Kankuro had started to get the inkling that maybe…his father's behavior was different for a reason.

"Show me the next one," Yuna suggested.

Yondaime nodded and switched out to the drawing of the flowers and the woman. "This is my mother," he said softly.

"I see…" Yuna nodded gravely. "She is all the way back there, isn't she?"

Yondaime nodded, and then ventured, "The…The flowers are bigger than her."

"Indeed," Yuna agreed.

Yondaime chewed his lip for a moment. "Because…this is because…" His gaze slid away. "Father says she is a wallflower. I think this means the flowers will eat her up."

Kankuro gave an internal start, his stomach lurching at that unexpectedly horrifying imagery. For a moment, he imagined what it would be like to be eaten by flowers: soft petals brushing your skin while you were inexorably absorbed. Man, sometimes he hated his vivid imagination. He rubbed his arms unobtrusively.

"Alright," Yuna said softly. "How about the last drawing?"

Yondaime obediently changed drawings. He fell silent.

"What is this?" Yuna asked gently.

Yondaime chewed his lip and didn't respond at first. "He's…Sensei."

Kankuro knew then his guess had been right. "Basa-sensei?" he asked.

Yondaime nodded, seeming relieved that Kankuro had supplied the name. "I'm not supposed to talk about him," he whispered. "Father doesn't like him."

"I see," Yuna said. She looked at him sadly. "But you like him, don't you?"

Yondaime glanced around reflexively and then nodded. He looked into Yuna's eyes. "I like Basa-sensei a lot."

"Why don't you think your father likes Basa-sensei?" Yuna asked.

"Father makes me black and blue a lot," Yondaime said. "Basa-sensei notices, and he gets angry. He speaks to my father about over-training." He licked the corner of his mouth in a nervous gesture and then bit his lip. "Then father cusses him out. They get into a big argument. And then Basa-sensei goes away, and Otousama yells at me for showing my bruises to Basa-sensei. I said I couldn't help it, but he doesn't care. He shouts at me for lots of things."

Kankuro was horrified and saddened to hear this story. _So Basa-sensei really cared, and he couldn't do anything to make your life any easier._ He wondered suddenly how much Baki's family knew about the abuse that had happened in his father's household.

"Do you want to talk about your Otousama?" Yuna asked.

"Otousama's bad," his father said, with as much firmness as Kankuro had ever seen from his father. "He's bad. A bad person."

"I agree," Yuna said.

"I don't think I should talk about him," Yondaime said. "He might come back."

"Hmm?" Yuna tilted her head.

"If you say bad things about him, he finds out, and then he comes back," Yondaime said. "People tried it. He punished them. He punishes them all the time."

"I see," Yuna said gently. "Well, I don't want you to be punished. I like you."

Yondaime beamed. A flush entered his cheeks.

Kankuro thought it was adorable, but also worrying. _He's acting like a little kid right now._ By now, it wasn't so much that he didn't understand the basic outline of what was going on. It was that he didn't want to.

Yuna glanced at him, seeming to understand his discomfort.

"Do you want me to hang up your pictures?" Yuna asked Yondaime, changing the subject. "I have these awesome corner clips that can hold your pictures up without putting holes in them. I like them much better than tacks."

Yondaime looked excited. "Okay." He got up and handed his pictures to her, watching with interest.

Yuna got some metal clips from her desk drawer. They were shaped at right angles. How they stuck to the wall, Kankuro didn't exactly know. Maybe a wall-clinging jutsu. They were pretty fancy clips, after all. Yuna put up all three of his father's pictures around her desk, asking his father's advice for their placement. She kept fiddling around until they were the way Yondaime liked them.

Then she stood back and admired them. "What nice pictures. Kyou-san, you are an artist."

Kankuro gave a start. Then he saw it: all the pictures were signed 'Kyou', in katakana. キョウ, and then the date. Katakana was used in the school system. _Oh my god, he has to be like eight years old or something._ His father had graduated at age nine.

Yondaime chuckled. "You don't have to call me that."

"How about Kyou-chan, then?" Yuna asked mischievously. "Because you're so cute."

His father laughed. "Okay."

Kankuro realized Yuna must have a way of detecting when a shift in perceptions like this occurred. Because normally, his father would never respond to the name Kyou. He'd given up his name to be Yondaime Kazekage. Normally, his father wouldn't draw pictures or let anyone see them if he had. Normally, his father didn't think he was eight years old.

Yuna gave him another sympathetic glance. She asked Yondaime, "Kyou-chan, do you like living with Kankuro?"

Yondaime nodded. "Mm-hmm. Lots. I don't come out around Gaara, though. He scares me. He's very angry with me. And Temari makes me a little sad, because she wants her father to be cool." He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not very cool, Yuna-san."

Kankuro tried to wrap his mind around that response. _Does that mean he goes into this state a lot? _He tried to imagine his father having perception shifts and just not telling anyone. _Well…okay. That does sound like him. He hates when people worry._ He frowned. _But that assumes he can remember. What if he blocks it all out?_

Suddenly, he had a lot of questions, and he wanted to corner Yuna for the answers.

"When do you spend the most time with Kankuro?" Yuna asked gently.

Yondaime gave them both a sweet, self-conscious smile. "When we're snuggling. He likes to snuggle a lot. I liked, to snuggle Karura too. She was nice about me." He bit his lip and glanced around the office. "Some people don't like me."

"Like who?" Yuna asked.

"C-Council members," Yondaime said. "They're mad at me. When I say things…like they thought it was a waste of time to make a park. But everyone's got parks. Where are the children going to go if there are no parks?"

Kankuro gave a start. His father had started the Park Project ten years ago, as a way to give back to the villagers and try to make the streets safer for children. Designated parks went a long way towards making sure children were protected. Gaara had played in some of those parks, before he'd lost control of Shukaku.

Yuna nodded. "You are very wise, Kyou-chan." She gave Kankuro a look as if to plead with him to be patient. Then she asked Yondaime, "What do you think is going to happen when you leave this office?"

Yondaime shrugged. "I don't know."

"What about when you leave this office building?" Yuna asked, gently encouraging. "What are you going to do next?"

Yondaime sighed. "I'll probably let Yondaime go back to work. He's going to want to go back to work and spend time filling out paperwork." He made a face. "Then I'll come back out when it's snuggle time."

Yuna smiled at him. "Okay."

Kankuro knew Yuna had asked his father that question for his benefit. It was true that his father's responses did help him put together a picture of what was happening. Unwillingly.

"Can I talk with Kankuro for a sec?" Yuna asked. "He's not in trouble."

Yondaime relaxed. "I'll wait outside, Yuna-san."

"Thank you," Yuna said gently.

Yondaime crossed the room and exited quietly, closing the door with a click.

Kankuro let out his breath and turned his attention on Yuna. "So what is going on?"

"Your father is highly dissociative on the topic of his father," Yuna said. "That means that when his father is mentioned, he will feel intrusive emotions. If pressed on the topic, he is most likely going to 'switch'. That's an inexact term, but it means that he will dissociate, and his perceptions of time and who he is will be different. As you can see."

Kankuro nodded. "What do I do…about it?"

Yuna shrugged. "Nothing. He's not a danger to himself. You see, when he feels out of danger, or when a different kind of circumstance comes up, he will switch again. Deep in the subconscious, part of him knows what he is doing. That part regulates which sides of him come out at which times. He doesn't have to consciously think about what to do. He just does it. You're looking at a case of DID – Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's not as scary as it sounds. It's all about packaging up memories into manageable pieces."

Kankuro nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "So is he okay?"

"Oh, yes," Yuna said. "He's fine. He just needs to overcome his emotional barriers and remember things consciously. Some of which it sounds like he's already done. So he's on the path to healing."

"What are you going to do about it?" Kankuro asked. "To help."

"I can trigger his self-states – that's what they're called these days – simultaneously while keeping his awareness open," Yuna said. "I couldn't do that today because I didn't know for sure. When we bring Yondaime into communication with himself, he will resolve. That is not to say that any part of who he is disappears. What you see is all of him. Just in separately regulated pieces. In other words…we've met a part of your father he doesn't otherwise remember being."

"So…" Kankuro hesitated. "Is it okay to ask which part of him I'm dealing with?"

"That may be difficult," Yuna said. "Some people don't self-identify. But it's possible. You can ask. If you stay calm, most of the time it's not going to do any harm. I'd say gauge the situation…but your father seems like an inherently sweet person. Most people are, somewhere down inside."

Kankuro nodded. "I love my father. Very much."

Yuna crossed the distance between them and squeezed Kankuro's shoulder. "I know you'll take good care of him. And don't be afraid to let him take care of you. He can do it. Having a sense of identity confusion doesn't mean that he can't be your father. Remember that he's functioned this way all along."

That was something to think about. Kankuro absorbed that and nodded. "Thank you, Yuna-san."

Yuna smiled. "No problem."

Kankuro said good-bye and picked his father up from the hallway. True to Yuna's prediction, as soon as they reached the street, his father didn't remember what had happened during the session. Only that it was 'restful'. Kankuro didn't disturb that bubble. If his father thought therapy with Yuna was restful, so much the better.

After walking his father to the office, Kankuro turned his thoughts to home. He needed a while to paint and write, and he hoped nobody wanted to disturb him. There was a lot for him to process. Like that his father had several different perceptions about his own identity.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

* * *

Kankuro emerged from his writing and painting refreshed. That was how he blew off steam and processed things, and he felt much cleaner inside after he had been able to write a play in his head, act it out, and then write it down on a scroll, complete with character sketches. It was a modern kabuki play. He stored it on the bookshelf in his room along with the other scrolls he'd stored play ideas in, and went to pick up his father.

**xXx**

His father was bent over his desk, concentrating as usual. The desk lamp illuminated his father's face with a golden hue, drawing the lines of his face in sharp relief. The end of his pen was pressed against his bottom lip while he read. He acknowledged Kankuro with a glance, and then finished what he was doing.

Yondaime straightened with a stretch. "Is it that time already?"

"Done enough boring things for today?" Kankuro teased. He was comfortable doing so because at least part of his father thought paperwork was boring.

His father stood up with a protest. "I have to get this paperwork done. It's not good to put off to tomorrow what I could do today."

"Platitudes." Kankuro wrinkled his nose. "Platitudes that keep you trapped at that desk doing what a secretary down the hall could be doing."

"But less efficiently," Yondaime said.

"How do you know?" Kankuro asked. "You never gave them the chance."

"Well, what would I be doing all day if I weren't here, doing paperwork?" Yondaime asked in a reasonable voice.

"I don't know," Kankuro said. "Having fun. Having a life. Ooh – better yet – writing and painting."

Yondaime gave his son a look. "I can barely write my own name in terms of creativity, and I don't know how to paint. You're the artist."

"Well, maybe not paint, but draw," Kankuro said.

His father frowned.

Kankuro wondered if he had any inkling what had gone on in Yuna's office today. "So what do you remember from this afternoon?"

Yondaime looked baffled. "What a question to ask." He came out from behind his desk and linked arms with Kankuro. "It's not as if I'm going senile."

Kankuro allowed his father to walk them out of the office and down the hall, towards home. _And that's an evasion. He probably doesn't remember anything._ He tried to think of previous evasions his father had made on the topic of memory. Kankuro discovered there were a lot. 'I'm tired', and 'I was working', being the two chief excuses for not remembering something.

He wondered if his father remembered there was a home to go back to unless he were reminded by Kankuro's presence. _I'll have to talk with Yuna about that. Or find some way to research on my own._ But he didn't think he'd come across anything about Dissociative Identity Disorder in the Kazekage library. He'd been through the dissociation literature recently, and there wasn't a trace of it. Probably because it wasn't a popular topic, so there wasn't anything for the major booksellers to donate.

**xXx**

Baki had a family engagement that hopefully Jiraiya was invited to as well, so they weren't at dinner. Kankuro sighed at the quietness, but dealt with it. The mission today had been mail delivery. A few people had called in sick in the messenger service, which left a gap that Kankuro and his siblings had filled for the day. Mail delivery was a military division, just not one that saw combat.

Temari mostly talked about how boring it was, and about how noisy one person's dog had been.

Gaara was silent, but at least he wasn't chiming in with 'it was a waste of time'.

Kankuro ate a bite of halibut and paused. "So, Dad, what happened at the Council meeting today?"

"Nothing much," Yondaime said.

"Did you tell them that you wanted in on their little arrangement with Sound?" Kankuro asked.

His father paused.

Kankuro was suddenly worried. "Why not?"

"The topic hadn't come up," his father said. "We're scheduled to talk about the war budget tomorrow. I thought I would bring it up then. I'm not trying to confront them so much as I am trying to join them. It mustn't look like a confrontation. It must look like I am giving in. The dynamic for today was all wrong."

Kankuro relaxed. He realized he'd unfairly assumed his father hadn't remembered. _That's not what Yuna said. Yuna said that Tousan would remember what he had to for a situation._ He nodded. "Okay."

"You shouldn't have to give in at all," Temari said, scowling.

"But if I don't, they won't believe I want to join them," Yondaime said mildly.

Temari sighed. "Point." She picked at her carrots. "Just don't let them humiliate you, okay, Dad? I don't want to hear it. I'll feel like killing something. They've got no right to act like you're some civil servant under them. You were elected fair and square to be our leader."

Gaara said slowly, "You will win their trust and demand a meeting with the Sound?"

"Yes," Yondaime said. He nodded. "That's the general outline of the plan. If I meet him or her, and know them on sight as well as by chakra, I can help Jiraiya track them. The reason why Jiraiya hasn't successfully collected evidence that these people are no good is because he can't find them."

Gaara ate a bite of fish and rice. "It is dangerous for someone who does not have an ultimate defense."

Yondaime looked pleasantly surprised. "Why, yes, it is, Gaara."

Gaara frowned at him. "This is not something to be happy about."

"I am not happy that my plan is dangerous. I am happy that you care," Yondaime said with a small smile.

Gaara stared at him for a moment, then looked away.

Kankuro found himself smiling. "Yeah. We all care about you, Dad. We're a family. And we all want you to be safe."

Gaara didn't comment. However, he didn't object, either.

"You bet," Temari said. "If you get hurt, I'll go ballistic."

Yondaime snorted and gave his children a wry smile. "I can take care of myself. I lived through a war. Sometimes, believe it or not, I was even by myself out there. This is nothing new for me."

_No, but it's been a while,_ Kankuro wanted to say. _Maybe you're rusty. _He didn't want to insult his dad, though, so he didn't.

**xXx**

After dinner, Jiraiya and Baki came to check in. Neither one of them were thrilled about Yondaime's plan.

"I thought it was supposed to be me out there," Baki said.

"I know that is what we originally discussed…"

"Yeah, what's with the change?" Jiraiya asked.

"I feel it's too dangerous," Yondaime said with a shrug. "And I want to see the people who have been undermining our alliance with Konoha. I feel angry."

Baki took a slow, deep breath. "Kazekage-sama…Please let me meet with them first. If I die it will not be the biggest loss."

"Says who?" Jiraiya snapped. He punched Baki in the arm.

Baki rubbed that spot, looking at Jiraiya reproachfully.

"I agree with Jiraiya," Yondaime said. "Your life is not on the line, Baki. If Sound feels like attacking, the person they attack should be me. I will have bodyguards, and I have a higher power level than you. Not to mention I will be less tempting. It would be extremely bad for the Council's alliance if the Sound got on my bad side. So there will be no disrespect. I will not send you into that situation."

"Fine," Baki grumbled. He shot Jiraiya a look. "Just don't punch me again."

"Baby," Jiraiya muttered, but he looked less alarmed.

Kankuro snorted, shook his head, and walked upstairs to get changed for bed. He allowed his father a suitable amount of time before knocking on his father's door. It'd been about an hour. During that time, he got his pajamas on, washed his face paint off, and spent time playing with his cat. He hadn't had time for her lately, and he felt a little bad about that. But he had a lot of things going on. He told Poko some of them.

She seemed as disinterested as usual in his life. As long as he occasionally played with her and petted her, she didn't care what was going on. Typical cat logic.

"Dad?" Kankuro asked.

"Come in," his father responded.

When Kankuro closed the door behind, him, his father looked up from the journal on his lap and said, "You can stop knocking, you know. If you just come in from now on, I won't be bothered."

"Okay," Kankuro said. He crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, sitting down beside his father and getting under the covers. "What's up?"

"I'd like you to read a poem I wrote," Yondaime said. "Does this bother you?"

Kankuro shook his head. "No, not at all."

Yondaime passed the open journal to his son and folded his hands. "I'd like to know what you think of it. If it's any good or not. I think it's better than the rest of what I've written so far…"

Kankuro nodded absently, absorbed in scanning the lines of the poem.

Sunlight streams over his face in the morning

And I think: How beautiful he is.

Then I think: He needs to comb his hair.

This is the conflict and resolution

Father and son.

Kankuro blushed and smoothed down his hair self-consciously, although he knew his hair was currently combed. He grinned and kissed his father's cheek. "It's wonderful. I think it's really great." He chuckled. "And it's really funny to read a poem about me." He didn't think of himself as a particularly inspiring subject.

His father hugged him and kissed his cheek in return. "Really? It's any good?"

"It's good," Kankuro agreed, snuggling into his father's arms. He turned and kissed his father's lips, gently mouthing. "Very good," he murmured, appraising his father with a silent question and a sly smile.

His father blushed. "Okay." He lay down, gently pulling Kankuro with him.

They kissed for several moments.

"Now I have to write a poem about you," Kankuro teased.

His father groaned. "Please don't. It would be awful. I can't imagine what you'd write."

Kankuro tickled his father's sides lightly. "I thought the same thing until you wrote that poem about me. It's beautiful. So maybe I have something beautiful to say too, ne?"

His father squirmed and let out a choked laugh. "Maybe. Stop that."

Kankuro grinned and hugged his father tightly. He started up the kissing again.

When they were both winded and red, they agreed not to go any further tonight. Kankuro had to admit he was unexpectedly slowed down by doing stuff for several nights in a row. All four days previous to this one, they'd brought each other pleasure until they came. Apparently, human bodies had a limit.

"An unforeseen roadblock I'm sure we will get over," Kankuro teased.

His father laughed. "Oh, you are impossible."

Kankuro snuggled his father to his side, stroking his father's back. Yondaime nuzzled Kankuro's chest. Kankuro allowed his eyes to drift shut, absorbing the softness and the warmth of their bodies together. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Yondaime said. He hooked an arm around Kankuro's waist and squeezed, squirming their bodies together even closer.

**xXx**

The next day when Kankuro went to pick his father up from work, he got the announcement he both anticipated and dreaded.

"It's done," his father said breathlessly. His eyes were unusually bright with excitement. "The meeting is set for three days from now."

"Three days from now?" Kankuro was taken aback. Time had passed; too fast. It was only a week before he and his team would have to leave for the Chunin Exam if they were going.

His father nodded. "Yes. In the desert. At the Head Stone." The Head Stone was an ancient statue, supposedly belonging to a shrine that had gotten buried in the desert sand. Some people said it was actually the statue standing on top of the roof of the old temple. By now, only the head of the statue and its tall hat were above ground. In the last year, in fact, its chin had gone under by another two inches. Someday, they were going to have to excavate the thing to see it again.

At least one scholar thought the statue was a depiction of the Sand priest that had turned into Shukaku, but Kankuro wasn't so sure about that. He didn't think Shukaku had ever been human. And if it were, it was better buried, in his opinion. Shukaku wasn't the kind of person Kankuro wanted a shrine to.

"You're bringing guards, aren't you?" Kankuro asked.

"Shimeru and Chounin," Yondaime said.

Kankuro looked at his father uneasily. "Why not Aio and Josei?"

His father had four guards, men who worked in pairs. Shimeru was a taijutsu specialist whose main jutsu was Cloth Binding. Chounin was a wind release user who could also use water release. Shimeru and Chounin were called on whenever there was a meeting. The rest of the time, Aio and Josei, the two men that guarded the outside of whatever building Yondaime was in, were called upon.

Yondaime sighed. "I know it's no secret that you like Aio and Josei better. They're around more, and you know them personally. But think about this: while I am away, meeting this Sound representative, someone has to protect you and your siblings. I would rather know it was Aio and Josei protecting you than Shimeru and Chounin."

That was as close as his father ever got to admitting he preferred one pair of guards over the other.

"But we're not the ones in danger," Kankuro said.

"You don't know that," Yondaime said.

"But we know you'll be in danger," Kankuro said.

His father gave him a tolerantly exasperated look. "How? I've agreed to cooperate."

"The Council is full of bastards, remember?" Kankuro said. "They don't like you and don't trust you. What if they're just taking this as an opportunity to assassinate you or something?"

Yondaime let out a laugh. "That would be so ridiculous it would be beyond the pale. Can you imagine if word ever got out that the Council assassinated their Kazekage? They'd all hang. Or have their heads cut off."

Kankuro was doubtful. "What about the Sound, then? What if they don't want you involved?"

His father's expression became more serious at that. "That might be a possibility. But they don't have a choice, do they? I am the leader of this village. Sooner or later Sound had to expect they would be meeting with me."

Kankuro found himself shaking his head. "I still don't like your logic. Take all four guards. Please. We'll have Baki and Jiraiya looking out for us."

"If you insist on my having four men, how about this?" Yondaime asked. "I will have Baki and Jiraiya beside me in disguise, wrapped up in clothing for the desert. Then I will also have Shimeru and Chounin. Aio and Josei will stay behind and guard you. That part is final. I will not have my children trifled with while I am away."

Kankuro couldn't dispel the ache in the pit of his stomach. _But he nodded. I guess it's final. Aio and Josei are going to stay behind with us_. "Okay." _Aio and Josei won't be able to do a better job than Baki and Jiraiya. Jiraiya's a Sannin. And Baki's really good._

He swallowed. _It'll have to be good enough._

Nothing would convince him that this meeting wasn't all about two opposing factions trying to trap each other into an ambush. He'd read way too much history to believe that things would go down peacefully.

He'd have to trust his father's guards and Baki and Jiraiya to keep his father safe.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

* * *

Kankuro tried to think of ways to make everything okay in the next few days. But he realized: _It's not going to be okay if Father doesn't survive. There's just no way. We'd be orphaned, and I don't care how nice Baki and Jiraiya are. I want my dad. _

And he wanted to see his father heal, and become for everyone the beautiful person his father was for him.

So his father had to make it. He just had to.

For the first couple days, Kankuro acted as normal as he possibly could. He smiled, he laughed and joked with Baki and Jiraiya. He chimed in when Temari was complaining. He held his father in bed and whispered reassurances.

The night before his father was scheduled to meet Sound in the desert, Kankuro couldn't take it anymore.

Right after dinner, he took a shower, gathered his courage, and walked down the hall to his father's room. He did as his father said he could and came in without knocking.

His father turned around, startled, not yet dressed for bed. "Oh, Kankuro." He blinked, assessing the expression on Kankuro's face with concern. "What is it, son?"

Kankuro closed the door. He swallowed thickly, a lump in his throat. "I don't want you to go…"

"I have to," Yondaime said, looking into Kankuro's eyes with gentle compassion.

Kankuro shook his head. "That's not the end of my sentence."

His father waited this time.

Kankuro did his best to get the words out. "I don't want you to go…without knowing how it feels to go all the way. With you inside me."

His father gave a start and froze, wide-eyed.

Kankuro crossed the space between them and took his father's shoulders. He pinned his father to the wall, gently leaning on him. "Do it," Kankuro whispered. "Take me. I want to feel you inside me."

His father blushed at those words. "I…"

Kankuro gripped the front of his father's martial arts coat with both hands. "Please. I don't want you to die never knowing what it felt like…to go all the way with you. I gave you that. Give this to me. Please." He found tears in his eyes.

His father stroked his cheek. "Kankuro…I am not going to die."

"I know." Kankuro nodded. "I said the same thing to you. But I still wanna do it. Just like you still wanted to do it with me. I'm not asking lightly. I really thought about it. I wanna feel you inside me. And I know…I trust you."

His father kissed him, gently mouthing his lips. "I am honored by your trust and will not betray it." He clasped Kankuro's hand, squeezing.

Kankuro kissed his father back, moaning faintly and sucking on his father's lower lip. At his father's gasp, he slipped his tongue into his father's mouth, feeling. Caressing.

His father moaned and arched, tempting Kankuro too much to resist. He made quick work of unbuttoning his father's jacket and slipped his hands underneath his father's shirts, feeling warm skin and hard nipples. His father cried out.

Kankuro felt a surge of heat at that sound. He pushed his father's shirts up and latched onto one of his father's bare nipples, licking and sucking. He father squirmed, and he pressed his father against the wall for support. He felt his father grow harder with each lick and kiss. Heat flooded his cheeks. He moaned and switched nipples, pulling it into his mouth and loving on it.

Clothes got left on the floor as they headed for the bed. Kankuro pinned his father down on the bed, only the thin layer of mesh fabric between him and his father's bare chest. His father still wore his martial arts pants. Kankuro wore his baggy black t-shirt, but had kicked out of his pajama pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Kankuro continued to kiss and lick his father's nipples until his father was moaning and whimpering at the same time, a whole new noise. He reached out and opened the nightstand, grabbed the lubrication. "We need this, right?" He was panting.

Yondaime nodded. "Y-Yes…"

Kankuro went back to his father's nipples until he felt dampness seep through the material of his father's pants. Then he dragged them off, revealing that his father's boxers were soaked in front. "This is a good start," he teased.

His father flushed deeply.

After Kankuro got his father's boxers off, he sat to one side, stroking his father's erection gently. "This is going to be inside of me, ne?" he murmured.

His father nodded, watching him with wide, vulnerable eyes.

Kankuro ran his thumb over the top of his father's erection. _So wet, so soft, and slick… _He grinned and looked into his father's eyes. "I can't wait."

His father let out a gasp and arched his hips. "Then let me love…let me pleasure you until you can't breathe…"

"Hai," Kankuro said. _Sounds good to me._

His father sat up, pulled off his mesh shirt, and pulled off Kankuro's shirt. He tossed them aside and gathered Kankuro into his arms. He kissed Kankuro's ear. "Would you like to be spanked before we move on to the other stuff?" he murmured.

Kankuro felt a surge of arousal. "Okay."

He bent over his father's lap, conscious of how close their erections were to each other. He was dripping. His father started out nice and slow, teasing, rubbing, patting. Kankuro was achingly hard at the way his boxers were pulled down in back. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore. Kankuro cried out, squirming. "I can't take anymore! Spank me! Spank me, Tousan…" Tears of pleasure welled up in his eyes.

His father brought him sweet relief, peeling off his boxers and swatting him.

Kankuro let out a loud moan. "Yes…more…more…please…"

His father swatted him half a dozen times, slowly, rubbing in between, until blood was surging in Kankuro's body like a frantic tide, making him hot and breathless.

"Want me to prepare you for the next step?" his father asked, his voice low and husky.

"Yes," Kankuro whispered.

His father parted him gently. "Do I have your permission to lick you here?" Yondaime brushed his finger over Kankuro's entrance.

Kankuro whimpered, and his erection twitched. "Wh…What?" His ears rang at the rush of blood. "Why?"

"You're clean back here, right?" his father said softly. "You've just taken a shower…" His finger circled Kankuro's entrance gently. "Doing this is the quickest, safest way to make sure you…to prepare you."

Kankuro could tell this discussion was difficult for his father. He moaned. "I…okay." He didn't know what this was going to feel like. The few comics he'd read where this happened, though, made him very red in the face. So perhaps that was a good sign.

His father helped him change position, so that his father knelt behind him.

"Relax," his father breathed. He caressed Kankuro's bottom. "Just relax…and feel the pleasure."

Kankuro flushed hotly. His father's gentle voice struck a chord somewhere deep inside of him, a place receptive to the meditative grace and calmness in his father's voice. He let his head hang down and let his father support his hips.

A hot, wet caress against him made him moan loudly. He'd never felt anything like that before. His entrance quivered, sending shockwaves of warmth throughout his body. "Oh, god…Dad…"

His father moaned softly in response and licked again. The sensation that exploded over Kankuro was indescribable. Hot, sensual tingles, his veins opening like floodgates and rushing him with incredible feelings of liquid heat. His legs went limp. His stomach tightened, his nipples flashed hard…and most of all there was the heat.

There was no way he could stand against this feeling. His father licked him until he melted, so relaxed that his arms folded and his head lay on the mattress to one side, his eyes were closed and pleasure had him in a semi-trance. He was so hard his entire erection tingled with heat.

"Are you feeling it?" his father asked.

Kankuro parted his lips and let out a moan. "Yes…"

"Do you want to feel the pleasure of me inside of you?"

"Yes…" Kankuro couldn't imagine what it felt like, but he did. He did want it.

His father rubbed a slick finger against him. Kankuro squirmed against it. His core suddenly contracted, aching. He moaned and pressed back. His father's finger slipped partway inside of him. Kankuro's heart skipped a beat at how sudden and smooth and painless that all was.

Then he moaned loudly. "Oh, god, Dad, more! I want more!" His body rippled around his father's finger. Deeper inside, he ached. Where his father's finger was, he felt a soothing, arousing pressure, like when his father had sucked and licked his tailbone. That kind of pleasure. The pleasure of something building, something needed.

His body was wracked with spasms, twitches that traveled down his legs. But when those subsided, his father penetrated him completely. He moaned again. "God, yes, more…"

His father stroked him, sliding a finger in and out in a gentle, smooth motion.

It wasn't long before his father added more, to the soundtrack of Kankuro pleading. More, and more, until there were three fingers inside of him, working, rubbing, caressing. Kankuro was so wet and hard he was sobbing.

"I'm going to turn you around," his father said softly.

Kankuro almost didn't hear him. "Turn me…around?"

"I'm going to turn you around," his father said. "To face me. And I am going to take you slowly, deeply, completely…in every way your protector."

Kankuro experienced a wave of tingling heat at that. "O-Okay."

His father, true to his word, gently withdrew his fingers and turned Kankuro around, settling Kankuro on his back. Then Yondaime stroked Kankuro's cheek with his clean fingers. "I love you. I want to look at you and love you and see the pleasure on your face. Kankuro…is this okay?"

Kankuro managed a nod. He watched through his eyelashes, hardly able to keep his eyes open.

His father coated himself in lubrication. Then he knelt, lifted Kankuro's limp legs, and guided their bodies into a place of connection, so smoothly and gently Kankuro was reminded that his father had done this before.

"I love you," Yondaime said. Then he entered Kankuro with the tip of his erection.

Kankuro moaned and arched his back.

"Slowly," Yondaime said. He slowly, carefully slid himself into Kankuro, pausing often to let Kankuro's body adjust.

It felt great, but it was driving Kankuro crazy. His heartbeat was wild by the time his father was done, and his whole body burned. "Tousan…" He pressed into the feeling of his father inside of him and moaned at the way his father shifted. "Tousan…Tousan…" His hips moved in spite of himself.

Yondaime threw back his head and let out a surprised moan. "Kankuro!"

Kankuro panted and worked his hips more, dictating the pace for both of them. He gritted his teeth. "Yes." He felt a flush in his cheeks creeping down his neck. "Oh, yes. God, yes. Yes, yes…yes."

His father shuddered, shifted, and started gently moving with him.

They made each other cry out with the way they moved against each other, both actively pleasuring themselves and the other, working together, for each other. They ended up clasping each other's hands tightly, their bodies moving in a rhythm of their own. Completeness.

He wanted to stay in this moment forever. _There's no tomorrow,_ he pleaded with every gentle thrust. _There's no tomorrow..._ If he could, he would reach out and grab the universe, stopping everything.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

* * *

The day had arrived.

Kankuro wondered absently if he would have to explain to Yuna and Mafumi that his father wasn't showing up for any more sessions because he was dead. _No, wait…_ He shook his head. _The news of Yondaime dying is going to be public. No one will need to tell them. They'll just know._

He wondered if he should be worried that his thoughts had already gone there: to his father dying. How to prepare. He supposed it was a coping mechanism. A way to regulate the terror he felt.

Because he really couldn't afford for his father to die. There was just no way. _How would I survive? What would I do…if the love of my life died on me?_

Kankuro suddenly had a whole new understanding of his father. It brought tears to his eyes. _Tousan…how did you do it? How did you survive…and with your dad there to prey on you…How? How did you not break? How did you not commit suicide? How did you not…die?_

After breakfast, his father announced he was going. He stood from the table. "Shimeru and Chounin will be here soon to pick us up."

Baki and Jiraiya nodded. They'd come over for breakfast for once, to be ready for today's rendezvous.

Yondaime looked across the table at his children. "As well, Aio and Josei will be guarding you for the duration of my absence." He had already explained to Gaara and Temari about the plan, as soon as Baki and Jiraiya showed up earlier in the morning. "I will summon them now."

He took out a bell from his pocket, a round little bell on a string. He rang it. It made no sound.

All the same, two people appeared in puffs of smoke, appearing a split second after the silent ring of the bell. One of them was slim and willowy, much like Yondaime himself. The other was tall and muscular, the same height as Baki but a little narrower around the shoulders. They both bowed deeply.

Jiraiya raised his eyebrows. "That was quick."

Almost as one, the two bodyguards straightened.

The tall, muscular man bore no visible weapons, but was dressed like any jonin from Suna: turban-style helmet, wrappings covering his neck and hands, a gray flak jacket over a sand colored long sleeved shirt and martial arts pants.

His eyes, though, were kind. Kankuro had always liked Josei's eyes.

Josei's partner, Aio, wore black garments, like most of the Puppet Corps, but he had also wrapped his head in layers of white fabric against the sun. A bold black design stood out on his face, transforming him into some undead-inspired creature from a kabuki play. His dark, clever eyes gleamed mischievously.

"We are here to serve you, Kazekage-sama," Josei said.

"Yeah," Aio said, dusting his shoulders off unnecessarily. "What's up?"

Josei cast him an annoyed glance.

He grinned in response.

"You are going to be guarding my children," Yondaime said.

"We always guard your children," Aio said. "What's so different about today?"

"There may be grave danger," Yondaime said. "I am going to meet a representative from Sound. Sound is an organization seeking to call us ally in the war against Konoha."

"Sound, huh?" Aio frowned. "I've never heard of them."

"Neither has anyone else," Baki said. "They're new. The only information I was able to gather was through ANBU contacts. Sound is a new ninja village residing in the former Land of Rice, which they have conquered."

"Baki and Jiraiya are going to accompany me," Yondaime said. "Together, we are going to do our best to get to the bottom of this."

"Yeah, we don't want a war," Jiraiya said. "It stinks. And we're gonna find the rat who stinks the most and show the Council his true face. There's nothing in it for Suna to go to war with Konoha. We're allies."

"War sucks," Aio agreed.

Yondaime smiled. "Then you'll agree to be here and do your part of the plan."

"We will," Josei said. He bowed again. "Of course."

"I only got one question, though," Aio said.

"Shoot," Jiraiya said.

"How come we're not coming along?" Aio asked. "The main action's not gonna be here. It's gonna be where you guys are."

"We don't know that," Yondaime said. "I would rather that you stay behind. This whole meeting could be a ruse; a way to guarantee my cooperation by kidnapping my children, for instance. My anti-war sentiments are no secret."

Aio pouted. "Fine, fine. But it still sucks that you're not taking us along."

Kankuro had to smile at that. Like most puppet masters, Aio could be blunt. The appreciation for the theatre they were taught, for layers and for masks, often resulted in an attitude of honesty with those they respected. Radical honesty, even.

Josei bowed. "Forgive him." He paused and straightened. "Although…I agree with him. I am worried about you."

"Well, I'll be there," Baki said.

Josei glanced at Baki guiltily. "Yes, of course, sir."

"But we know how to protect Yondaime better!" Aio propped a hand on his hip. "We're his bodyguards! How come we're not coming along?"

"Because I need to see these Sound people," Jiraiya said.

"So?" Aio said. "What's stopping you from coming along with us?"

"Because," Jiraiya said. "Yondaime already agreed to an escort of four people."

"Yeah," Aio said. "So, me, you, Josei-kun, and Baki. That makes four."

"I have assigned you to this location with a purpose," Yondaime said mildly. "I trust you with familial responsibilities more easily than I do Shimeru and Chounin. It is nothing personal…merely that I know you will do better than your comrades in guarding my children."

Yondaime gestured to his three worried children. Temari was obviously worried and unhappy. Kankuro couldn't say he was hiding it much better. Gaara stood with his arms crossed, his expression unrevealing except for the shadows around his eyes.

"So I wish for you to remain here," Yondaime said.

"We understand," Josei said.

Aio pouted. "But I don't have to like it."

Yondaime rolled his eyes and smiled. "No, of course not," he agreed.

That was pretty much the only way to deal with Aio.

"Yondaime's a pretty tough guy," Jiraiya said. "He's been through a lot. No way is this the end of the tale."

Baki smiled ruefully. "You and your story metaphors."

"Always." Jiraiya grinned. "All the world is a stage, and we are but players." He gestured grandly. "A famous person said that. Betcha know who."

Baki shook his head. "I couldn't begin to guess."

Jiraiya snorted. "Then you need to go back to school. Jeez…I thought everybody knew that guy."

"No," Baki said mildly.

Jiraiya rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm gonna teach you all the basics, so we can at least hold a conversation. Culture, Baki! Culture!"

Kankuro thought the silliness of this conversation was probably in proportion to how worried Jiraiya was. _God…_ His stomach was tying itself into knots, and his father hadn't even left yet. _Dad…be okay._

They bade formal farewells. He and his siblings saw their father off, Shimeru and Chounin appearing in a flash to escort their Kazekage alongside the disguised figures of Baki and Jiraiya. Oddly, when their features were covered, they were twin-like. Same size, same height. Baki was only distinguished by the way the wrappings of his turban covered his eye. Both of them had wrapped their scarves all the way up to their eyeballs, eliminating their faces from view.

Unlike Josei and Aio, Kankuro could never get a read on Shimeru and Chounin. They were dressed identically in standard gear, except with white martial arts jackets on underneath their flack jackets. That extra layer of clothing was the only thing that distinguished them. Both were fairly tall, though not as tall as Baki or Jiraiya.

Kankuro felt bad for not quite trusting them with his father. But he always felt their heart wasn't in it, like it was with Josei and Aio. He knew why Josei and Aio took their job personally; his father had broken down in front of them. What made them better than Shimeru and Chounin seemed like a thing of circumstance.

Still…

Kankuro couldn't shake his uneasiness.

**xXx**

They trekked across the desert at a steady pace, not straining themselves. Shimeru and Chounin led, and Yondaime walked with Baki on his left and Jiraiya on his right.

Looking back across his life, Yondaime had never expected any of this. As a small child just trying to keep up with his classmates and please his father, he'd thought merely of making genin someday. Once he made genin, he was home less and less often, until he was a chunin with his own bachelor pad and a girlfriend. Sort of. He'd found it nearly impossible to juggle his job and his girlfriend and his family responsibilities to visit his parents, until Karura had moved in with him. Or tried. It had only lasted two weeks before he confessed how much he hated his apartment, and he moved in with her instead. An unusual arrangement in Suna, but then, his life had gotten progressively stranger.

Yondaime shook himself and gazed about the desert. It was a bright day, the kind of day one needed to be careful about or suffer blindness. Hot, windless, like walking into the mouth of an enormous beast. Oven-like. The desert was featureless to outsiders who were unable to comprehend the sea of sweeping dunes. In the distance, a dark smudge signified the Head Stone. It was swathed in rippling heat currents, the famous inspiration for the idea of mirages.

People said your life flashing before your eyes meant that you were about to die.

He sincerely hoped it was a myth.

Because he couldn't help but think about Karura. In the past, whenever something dangerous and political happened, she was there to support him. He would not have caved to Minato's and Jiraiya's urgings if Karura hadn't responded with determination to make him Kazekage after his uncle. He had been shocked when Karura sided with the Leaf outsiders. 'That's the best idea I ever heard!' she'd said. Ironically.

And for a while, she had been right. Things had been good. With his new power and responsibilities, he managed to dodge his father for months at a time. When he did have his father around him, it was only in a room with a dozen other people or more, as part of official dinners and public events. Karura had children. Smiling, adorable babies, a boy and a girl, that she was happy to bring into the public eye to show how beautiful they were. He was the picture of a young Kage: wife, small children, calm and poised for every situation. Never showed any worry.

Then Karura died, and his world broke. Shattered into pieces that cut his hands like shards of glass when he tried to pick them up.

And it was all one blurry nightmare until the day that his father died. Then he found himself standing over a casket, wondering why his father looked so peaceful, so harmless for once.

He'd never cried. Just buried the body as quickly as possible, as per Suna custom. Cremated. There was a kind of revenge in burning such a person down to a handful of ashes and burying them in the ground. _No more of you,_ he'd thought.

Then the nightmares began, and he began crying himself to sleep every night with a glass of plum wine. Or two. Surely not more than three.

Finally, Kankuro had come into such a night, and…somehow…started to pick up the pieces that had cut his hands. Kankuro could do what he couldn't do.

Yondaime sighed and glanced about him, at his guards and his special escort of Baki and Jiraiya. _Things will be okay…because everything has to be._

He was not about to give up everything he'd had. Not about to leave his children fatherless. His village Kazekage-less. He would succeed.

**xXx**

When they neared the Head Stone, a group of three men were standing in the shadow of the towering statue head. Two of them had pale hair. The third was shorter than the two others, and had dark hair.

At their final approach, the men stepped out of the shadows. One of them, a young man with glasses and his hair pulled back in a ponytail, stepped out in front and bowed. "Kazekage-sama."

Yondaime inclined his head in return. "So you are the representative of Sound."

"Yes, Kazekage-sama." The young man straightened. "My name is Kabuto. Formerly of the Yakushi clan; no more." He smiled. "Also, Kabuto is but a nickname. I cannot remember my real name. Nor my parents."

"An orphan," Yondaime guessed.

Kabuto bowed. "Yes, Kazekage-sama."

"Tell me more about Sound," Yondaime said.

"Sound was formed for the furtherance of justice," Kabuto said. "Our lord has taken us in from our various cruel circumstances and offered us a brighter future among his people. Together, we have established for ourselves a new ninja village, one that is just and wise, wherein everyone works together for a common goal. Unlike the other ninja villages in the world, everyone is equal. Underneath our lord, we all can realize our full potential."

"Why is your lord interested in attacking Konoha?" Yondaime asked.

"Because they are unjust," Kabuto said. He furrowed his brow. "Is that not enough? Is injustice not something to be fought wherever it manifests? Konoha is inherently flawed and deserves to be destroyed." He shifted, and suddenly his face was angled into the sun in such a way that his glasses gleamed brightly.

Yondaime took in that speech while reserving his opinion. "What is your personal stake in this?"

"Personal stake?" Kabuto smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone has a personal reason for doing what they do. I want to know yours." Yondaime gave Kabuto his most dignified look. "My goals are to protect my children and my village. I would like to know the goals of my allies."

Kabuto bowed his head, then nodded. He gazed off to the side in a respectful gesture of submission to Yondaime's authority. "My village was attacked, and I was taken to Konoha. One of the only refugees left alive, along with a handful of other children. I grew up in Konoha, under the care of a man named Yakushi. I took his name as my own…only to discover that the village I belonged to was destroyed by Konoha themselves. My village was a civilian village, a beautiful village that posed no threat. A village in Fire, a village Konoha was supposedly sworn to protect. My life had been a lie. The worst kind of lie." At that, his voice dropped out of its stoic recital and vibrated with emotion. The sunlight gleamed off of his glasses so brightly it was dazzling, rendering his expression unreadable, but Yondaime thought that the show of emotion was genuine.

"How?" Yondaime asked. "How did you come to know this?"

"My eyes were opened by our great leader," Kabuto said. "He has also suffered the injustices of Konoha. Of favoritism. Of disdain. He who has founded our great nation wishes to find justice for all those who have been oppressed and abused by the ninjas of Konoha."

Yondaime turned to the man beside Kabuto. "What about you?"

The man stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Kimimaro, Kazekage-sama. A humble servant of our lord." He straightened. "I am dying, Kazekage-sama. An illness which has passed down the line of my family for ages. I came to Konoha seeking help. The legendary expertise of the princess Tsunade. They told me that there was no way to find her. A clear lie. I am but a humble traveler seeking to be healed, and they turned me away. To die. In horrible pain."

"I had heard that Tsunade-hime cannot be found," Yondaime said.

"A lie," Kimimaro declared.

"How do you know this?" Yondaime asked.

"Our lord," Kimimaro said. "The only man willing to heal me. He alone works on a cure for my illness."

Yondaime turned his attention to the last man in the group. "You?" he asked softly.

The young man gazed at him steadily. No emotion. "I lost my parents," he said. His voice was musical, low. "Konoha's fault, of course. If it hadn't been for the decisions made by Konoha's top officials, my parents would have lived."

"So you all have suffered at the hands of Konoha," Yondaime said.

"As have you," Kabuto said.

Yondaime inclined his head. "So you say. But I myself can find no evidence of Konoha underbidding my village."

"Ah." Kabuto smiled ruefully. "That is indeed the problem with not trusting the great lord we follow as intimately as we do."

"Yes," Yondaime said. "Perhaps I should meet him."  
Kabuto's smile widened. "Perhaps you should."

Yondaime nodded. "Very well, then. Please convey my wishes to your lord. If we meet and discuss this alliance in person, and I am able to judge for myself whom my perspective allies are, we may find ourselves on the same side against Konoha. Otherwise…" He shrugged. "You see, I have my village and my children to think of. Anything less than a guarantee of veracity about what your lord has told you could never convince me to risk the fate of my village. Konoha is a powerful village, with powerful connections. And also an ally."

"I see, I see…" Kabuto bowed deeply, and then straightened.

Yondaime had the impression that Kabuto's glasses shone with mischief, though he knew it was merely the sun.

Kabuto and Kimimaro stepped aside, allowing their youngest member to come forward. He stepped into Kabuto's spot and appraised Yondaime with an air of cold calculation, smiling slightly. "I am the leader of Sound."

"You?" Yondaime couldn't say he wasn't surprised.

"You are but a child," Shimeru said, seeming stunned.

The young man laughed.

Yondaime's skin crawled at the sound. He wanted to warn everyone, but he didn't know how, or about what. Some sense of wrongness or danger tingled in the back of his head. A finely honed instinct he'd counted on as he grew older. Not just in battle, but also to avoid his father's worse moods.

"I travel in disguise," the young man said. "It would not do to be accosted and assassinated while doing my good works." His smile grew into a smirk. "After all, I am an important man."

"I understand," Yondaime said. "I am only interested in one thing: the proof that Konoha has been underbidding my village."

"Proof?" The young man smiled widely. "You shall have it."

He peeled off his face.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

* * *

Orochimaru stood before them, all of fifteen years old, his characteristic purple and gold paint around his eyes.

Baki took a half step back. "What the –"

"Um, impossible," Jiraiya said. "What gives?" He pointed at the young man's face.

"A far more effective disguise than yours, ne?" The young Orochimaru smiled contemptuously. "A few desert wrappings could not keep your identity from me, Jiraiya. Your whole being gives it away."

"Or, you're bluffing," Jiraiya said. "You only recognized me by my voice, and you're annoyed that I put one over on you."

Orochimaru let out his breath in a huff, his expression going from smug to infuriated in a heartbeat.

Jiraiya peeled off a scarf and grinned at him.

"Don't undermine and belittle me," Orochimaru said. "I am much more powerful than you could hope to ever be."

"Let's get it on, then," Jiraiya said. He gestured. "Prove it."

Jiraiya and Orochimaru both called on their summons in an instant. An enormous, roiling puff of smoke behind Orochimaru cleared to reveal a serpent as tall as the Kazekage Complex.

Behind Jiraiya, the bulky form of Gamabunta was like a mountain.

"Oh, I see you found him," Gamabunta said, eying Orochimaru.

"Yeah," Jiraiya said. For once, he was deadly serious. The smile was gone.

"Where is my sacrifice?" Manda asked Orochimaru.

Kabuto looked nervous.

Orochimaru gestured grandly. "These men are your sacrifices, Lord Manda. The ones in Suna shinobi uniform. Including Jiraiya."

Manda surveyed his meal prospects with coldly glittering eyes.

Yondaime's breath died in his throat.

In that split second moment of shock, Manda lunged.

"No!" Yondaime desperately brought his gold dust up to counter, but it was too late.

Manda snatched up Chounin in his jaws and swallowed him, whole.

Yondaime summoned his gold dust and wrapped it around everyone protectively, stunned and horrified.

"I will consider that partial payment," Manda said to Orochimaru.

Jiraiya clenched his jaw, scowling.

Gamabunta glared sternly. "There will be no more sacrifices to you ever again when I am through with you."

"I'll eat you whole," Manda hissed.

"Oh yeah?" Gamabunta retorted. He drew his katana. "Even with my sword lodged in your brain? I'll cut you to pieces."

Orochimaru didn't waste any time. He opened his mouth and pulled out the sword of Kusanagi, regurgitating the katana in a smooth, inhuman movement.

"I thought long and hard about how to defeat you," Jiraiya said.

"Yes?" Orochimaru looked amused. "What were your conclusions?"

Jiraiya whipped aside his sand cloak, revealing a hilt sticking up from his obi. He drew the katana with a classic two-handed grip and dropped into a fighting stance. "I'll need a really good sword."

Orochimaru snorted. "What is that?"

In spite of his apparent disregard, Yondaime thought the katana unusually beautiful. A white hilt, with a light, silvery blade. It glowed in the desert sun, more like platinum than steel. Yondaime wondered what it was made of.

"Its name," Jiraiya said, never taking his eyes off of Orochimaru, "is Ame no Habakiri."

Orochimaru's eyebrows rose in a flash of surprise.

Jiraiya attacked.

At the same moment, their summons charged each other.

**xXx**

Kankuro was miserable. He was slumped over the couch, the tv on. It was a warm, stuffy kind of day, something mostly dealt with by the adobe construction of the mansion, but Kankuro was still aware of the hot smell of the windless day. The dust in the sunlight. "Dad…"

Gaara and Temari played a game at the kotatsu table. Kankuro considered it a sign of their situation that Gaara was willing to let himself be absorbed in such a thing. The game was a favorite of his and Temari's. It was called a few different things around Suna, but their set was called Tate Date. Sometimes, people selling the game called it Kempi. Either way, it was about taking long building blocks like sticks and building a tower one piece at a time. Players traded off putting in pieces. Then, once the pieces were all gone, the players had to take turns pulling out sticks from the tower, dismantling it as much as possible without making the tower tumble. Tate Date sort of meant 'building contract', though it had been chosen more for the catchy aspect of the name than making sense in regular language. Kempi was a word that meant 'to build a monument'.

Kankuro wasn't playing because his hands were shaking. He'd gone three rounds with his siblings and then quit out, to lie on the sofa and watch tv.

Aio and Josei had tried to shove food down their throats at lunch, but Temari and Gaara hadn't been very interested, and Kankuro couldn't eat at all.

**xXx**

Yondaime left Orochimaru to Jiraiya. He glanced at Baki. One of them would end up fighting Kabuto, and the other Kimimaro.

Kimimaro dropped into a crouching battle stance and grew what looked like sharp bones from his hands, elbows, shoulder blades, and knees.

That decided Yondaime in an instant. "Take Kabuto!" he yelled at Baki, and lashed out at Kimimaro with his gold dust. Pearly white bones ripped themselves out of Kimimaro's body, making a shield against the gold dust, rolling into a spiny ball.

Yondaime was impressed. And worried.

He wondered if anything about Kimimaro's story was true. _Is this man terminally ill?_

If that were true, all he would really have to do was fight Kimimaro until the man was running out of chakra. The illness, in theory, would overtake him in that weakened state.

But he couldn't count on that.

**xXx**

Baki and Kabuto eyed each other warily, sizing each other up while the battle raged around them.

"You know….Orochimaru-sama is a foolish enemy to make," Kabuto said.

"Yeah, whatever," Baki said.

Kabuto narrowed his eyes. "You're related to that Jiraiya-sama, aren't you?"

"We've grown closer since he's come to Suna," Baki said. "I'm flattered you noticed. He must be good for me." He created wind blades in both hands. Since they were weightless, he could find with two just as easily as he could one.

"Ooh, wind blades," Kabuto said mockingly, pretending to be impressed. "Is it true they can cut through anything?"

"They'll cut through you," Baki said. He leapt for the man in a flash of whirling blades.

Kabuto narrowly avoided the slicing attacks, a slight edge of speed that was bound to be worn out of him soon. Baki's wind blades cut into the blur surrounding Kabuto's body from the rapid movements.

Shimeru leapt into the battle and made a rapid series of hand seals. Bandages exploded from his hands and wrapped around Kabuto's arms in an instant. Shimeru yanked, snapping the Cloth Binding Jutsu taut.

Kabuto fell on his back in the sand with a yell.

Baki lunged.

**xXx**

Jiraiya and Orochimaru's sword battle led them eventually away from the rest of the group, just as Manda and Gamabunta raged against each other in the distance, where kicking up waves of sand didn't drown and choke their allies.

"You know what I'm going to do once I'm finished with you?" Orochimaru teased. "Kill Sarutobi."

"You wouldn't!" Jiraiya roared.

"I would!" Orochimaru laughed. "And I will. Kusanagi will taste that old man's blood, and then I will send him to hell, where he belongs!"

"How can you say that?" Jiraiya barely deflected Kusanagi. Their swords left notches in each other. "He loves us! He's our sensei!"

"Did he ever save you?" Orochimaru asked. "Did he ever save you from me?"

Jiraiya made a hand seal and touched his throat. He spat oil in Orochimaru's face, then rapidly followed it up by blowing fire. Flames leapt and roared high, oil spattering on sand and catching fire there, all around them.

Orochimaru shrieked, and then collapsed from inside, shedding skin and hair and clothes. He burst forth in a puff of smoke some ten feet away, clad in a shadowy purple kimono and hakama, his appearance like that of his adult self. "You fool! I could molt a thousand layers away from my body! Your pathetic jutsu will never touch me."

"That's just the sort of bravado you would say if I was getting close to kicking your sorry ass!" Jiraiya retorted. "Let's see how you deal with more fire. Go ahead, shed all your layers!"

Orochimaru responded with quick hand seal and a torrent of water, miniature tsunamis crashing forth from around Kusanagi.

Jiraiya's fire breathing technique roared around it, struggling. Their jutsus locked, grappling. Abruptly, Jiraiya changed tactics, dropping to the ground and pressing his palm flat against the sand.

Rocks surged up underneath Orochimaru, shaking the ground and spraying sand. The earth release technique smothered Orochimaru's water release.

Orochimaru sliced through the stones attempting to trap him in a rocky fist and dived at Jiraiya, Kusanagi raised vengefully.

Jiraiya raised his own sword in defense.

**xXx**

Yondaime gestured sharply, crashing wave after wave of mingled sand and gold over Kimimaro. The young man struggled, his bone technique raging underneath the surface, poking holes through the top of Yondaime's barriers at random intervals. Yondaime floated above the ground on a gold dust disk, shielded. "Die already!" He crushed down as hard as he could with his magnetism release, commanding it to compact.

Loud cracking sounds filled the air as bones fractured and broke.

He felt the man still struggling. Good god. Waves of Kimimaro's strange chakra continued to crash against his gold dust and sand, seeking release. Yondaime didn't dare let up. He was sweating in the sun, sweating from exertion, but he didn't dare let up.

**xXx**

Baki stared in disbelief at the golden glow surrounding his wind blades where they were imbedded in Kabuto's body.

Kabuto grunted with the effort. "I used my…chakra scalpels to keep you from…cutting too deep." Baki's left blade was halfway into Kabuto's arm, and the other one was at Kabuto's neck. Baki didn't know how Kabuto still spoke.

Shimeru looked horrified. "You're a medical ninja."

"Damn," Baki said softly. Medical ninjas were a pain. Always a pain. His mind flashed back to Chiyo for a moment; Suna's top medical ninja of all time. She held the record for both a puppet master and a medical ninja in terms of power.

_What do I do against a medical ninja?_

Baki leapt back and spread out his hands. "Wind needle!" Invisible flashes of razor sharp wind flew from his hands, leaving only a swift, mirage-like trail in their wake as other air rippled around them to get out of the way.

Kabuto arched at the impact of the needles with a howl of mingled pain and amusement. He fell limp. "You…You're quite something."

Baki was frustrated at the compliment. He hated enemy compliments. "Shut up." He gestured sharply. "Shimeru! Get him!"

Shimeru snapped out of his shock and lashed out with his Cloth Binding Jutsu, wrapping Kabuto up like a mummy, all the way up to Kabuto's neck. The long strips of cloth bound Kabuto's arms and legs. He yanked on the cloth binding around Kabuto's neck, seeking to strangle the man.

Kabuto let out a strangled yelp and turned an unappreciative shade of plum. He twisted and squirmed against Shimeru's bindings, and managed to somehow make another chakra scalpel, suddenly slicing through some of the bonds pinning his arm.

Then he passed out.

"Don't break his neck," Baki said. "We need him."

Shimeru nodded. "Hai."

Baki glanced out across the battlefield. In the far distance, a giant toad wielding a katana fought a giant serpent. Some hundred yards closer, Jiraiya and Orochimaru clashed. Jiraiya had shed his disguise, revealing his bright red haori in the sun. Orochimaru had transformed as well into darker garments, indigo or dark purple. Nature releases churned around them while their katanas swept and arced, sun dancing off of the blades in an irregular twinkle Baki couldn't look at too closely, or risk being blinded.

Much closer and to the right, away from everyone else, Yondaime stood hovering on a gold disk fifteen feet off the ground. Curved bones like the ribcage of some enormous animal stuck out of the compacted sand, still and silent.

Suddenly, Yondaime glanced over at Baki and Shimeru. He glided over on his disk, crossing the distance in a matter of seconds. The disk dissolved. In the same instant, Yondaime jumped down and landed in a crouch.

"Did you get him?" Baki asked.

"I think so. For now." Yondaime took a few deep breaths, winded and thirsty.

Shimeru bowed. "Kazekage-sama. We have captured Kabuto for your convenience."

Yondaime nodded. He swept the back of his sleeve across his forehead and turned, surveying Jiraiya and Orochimaru in the distance. "It's just up to the Sannin now." He didn't know if he could afford to turn his back on Kimimaro or Kabuto for very long.

"We should help him," Shimeru said.

Yondaime nodded distractedly. "I'll have to stay here. I am the only one who can contain Kimimaro, and I can put an enclosing barrier around Kabuto as well. I am needed here for containment, but you two should go ahead."

"Kazekage-sama, I can't leave you," Shimeru said.

"Then stay," Yondaime said. "Make your choice. If you're going to be distracted from the battle by thoughts of my well-being, you'll be of no help to Baki."

Shimeru flinched. "Yes, Kazekage-sama." He bowed.

Yondaime nodded at his former student. "Baki. Go. Jiraiya needs you."

Baki didn't have to be told twice. He took off with a spray of sand, racing to join the other battlefield.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

* * *

Jiraiya and Orochimaru still clashed, sword against sword. Neither gave the other an opening to use any jutsu. They pressed against each other's defenses, each looking for the advantage.

"Do you really think you can win this way?" Orochimaru asked. "I've been using kenjutsu since I was eight. You took it up as a hobby when you were fifteen."

"I might not be the little prodigy, starting when you did, but when I learned how to wield a sword doesn't matter," Jiraiya retorted. "What matters is who's better now."

"That's a good point," Orochimaru said.

Jiraiya's heart sank.

"Let me show you." Orochimaru let go of Kusanagi's hilt. The sword still pressed forward, attacking without his wielder.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Jiraiya complained, fending off the blade's phantom thrusts.

Orochimaru stood back and grinned at him, exposing snake-like fangs. "Surprised? Dismayed? Well, you haven't seen a tenth of my power yet."

"Isn't that classic badguy stuff?" Jiraiya asked. "Is it in your contract or something to brag about your unseen reserves of power? Because I've heard that a million times before. And not just from you."

He couldn't deny to himself that his wrist was getting tired. If he could put Ame no Habakiri on auto pilot, he would. But he wasn't going to show that he was being worn down.

Orochimaru's irritated expression was worth it. "Impertinence," he hissed. "I ought to finish you now and spare myself the ordeal of listening to your pompous accusations."

"Yeah, probably," Jiraiya agreed. "But if you could have, you would have by now." He knocked Kusanagi out of the way with a blow that spit sparks from both blades and slashed at Orochimaru.

Orochimaru hastily jumped back, infuriated.

Kusanagi retaliated by flying at his head.

Jiraiya turned the blade aside with a deflecting block. Kusanagi sliced past him, shredding through the trailing edge of his haori. Jiraiya hastily yanked off his haori and threw it at Orochimaru's face, betting that Kusanagi was still somehow guided by his teammate mentally. "Time for that to go anyway."

In the moment of confusion that caused both Orochimaru and Kusanagi – the blade hovered aimlessly as soon as Orochimaru's vision was blocked – Jiraiya hastily made the hand seals for a kage bunshin.

The haori fluttered to the ground in front of Orochimaru.

Jiraiya's double leapt out and grabbed the hilt of Orochimaru's sword before Orochimaru could regain control. "Gotcha!"

"Hang onto that thing," Jiraiya said. "Don't let it do anything crazy."

"Oh, I ain't lettin' go of this thing for the world," his shadow clone replied, yanking Kusanagi down with both hands.

"You think I can't create clones?" Orochimaru snarled. "I could create a thousand clones."

"But none of 'em are gonna be real," Jiraiya's shadow clone answered for him. "You hate sharing power with anybody. Most of all yourself. You'd never create a real clone like me. You'd be terrified you'd usurp yourself."

Orochimaru flushed angrily and fell silent.

Jiraiya laughed. "You tell him, other me." He didn't think he'd ever been so amused before in a battle situation. Hiruzen had told him once that shadow clones were actually pieces of the original person, and therefore retained all of their personality and abilities. This was that principle in action.

"You think you can control something that's mine?" Orochimaru said finally. He gestured, crooking two fingers.

Jiraiya number two suddenly found himself dragged towards Orochimaru, his feet slipping over the sand. He dug his heels in, found that didn't matter so much on this kind of terrain, and back-pedaled hastily, keeping himself in place against the pull of the blade.

"Do you think you can win merely by standing in stalemate?" Orochimaru asked, his smirk reappearing through his anger.

"No," Jiraiya said, leaping forward with Ame no Habakiri raised.

Orochimaru's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then he made a hand seal and spat silver senbon at Jiraiya from his mouth.

Jiraiya deflected them with his katana and bore down.

**xXx**

Kankuro stretched. "I can't believe they're not back yet."

"Yeah…" Temari sat on the floor and stared absently at the tv, watching some boring daytime tv show none of them had ever heard of. This was in the middle of when they were always working. And when they were kids, this was when they'd be at school. Nothing looked familiar to them. They could flip channels for an hour and not find something they recognized.

"What do you suppose is happening?" Kankuro asked, even though he knew it was naïve to think Temari had any answers.

"I don't know," Temari said, predictably. She chewed her lip.

"I'm sure they're just talking with some long-winded old guy from Rice in a pagoda somewhere, sipping chilled fruit juice and reading a mile-long contract," Aio said, dropping onto the sofa beside Kankuro.

Kankuro smiled at the older puppet master halfheartedly. As amusing and comforting as that image was, he doubted it was true. The pit in his stomach was too convincing in arguing otherwise. "I think they're in a battle. I think it went wrong."

Aio squeezed his shoulder. "If it did, you know they're going to win."

"Yeah, maybe." Kankuro didn't want to argue. He really wanted to believe Aio was right. He needed Aio to be right. Or it all would be ruined. Everything. He had too much riding on this to contemplate failure any longer.

Josei sat down on Kankuro's other side, silent and sympathetic.

Kankuro remembered the day of his graduation test for the Academy. He didn't know how it worked in other villages, but in Suna, parents were invited to attend and look on. Even though their presence was screened from the view of the children, everyone knew about it from their older siblings, their parents, and sometimes the teachers would admit to it. It was hardly a secret.

He'd known in advance that his father was unable to make it because the Council had scheduled a meeting during the time that he was going to take his test. His father had sent Josei instead to observe and report back.

What he hadn't expected was for Josei to come out after he'd passed his test and give him a congratulatory squeeze on the shoulder. He'd blushed bright red in front of everybody. And then, on top of it, Josei had treated him to lunch, then brought him to his father's office to tell his father in person. He'd gotten to come in wearing his forehead protector and everything.

Kankuro suddenly felt tears in his eyes and knew he had to tear himself away from the memories or cry. He looked around for something to distract him.

Then he realized that Gaara sat at the kotatsu table staring at the wood grain, with an oddly pensive expression.

"How are you feeling?" Kankuro asked.

Gaara sighed and bowed his head. "I am filled with an irrational sense of discomfort."

"How come?" Kankuro asked softly.

"I do not know," Gaara said.

"Is it about Dad?" Kankuro asked.

Gaara gave Kankuro a suspicious look. When he discerned that Kankuro wasn't making fun of him, he nodded slightly. "I am filled with a sense of unease and speculation. Wishing without influence is a useless way to live. But I feel myself…beginning to wish…" He hesitated, and looked down at the kotatsu table.

"What?" Kankuro prompted gently.

Gaara stared at the surface of the kotatsu table. "I wish that Otousama wouldn't die…"

**xXx**

Orochimaru twisted to one side, but the evasion wasn't enough. Jiraiya took a diagonal slice out of his head. The next two slices lopped off Orochimaru's arms, and the final cut slashed across Orochimaru's chest.

Jiraiya jumped back and landed in a crouch, his blade up defensively.

Orochimaru didn't bleed. Pieces of his body fell away, revealing nothing but pale, bloodless flesh. Jiraiya was reminded of the way imitation crab looked, and wanted to throw up. Orochimaru's body was nothing but thin layers of flesh rolled into a deceptively human-like shape.

"Like my newest attempt at immortality?" Orochimaru asked.

Jiraiya gagged as a severed parts of Orochimaru's body quickly heated up in the desert sun, hissing against the sand and releasing a horrifying, familiar stench.

Orochimaru's remaining eye turned black, and liquid darkness unfolded from inside like black wings.

The imitation body fell to the ground, toppling limply without its wearer inside of it.

Orochimaru stepped to one side, looking at the body for a moment as if to make sure that no part of it touched his clothing. He wore a black kimono, hakama, and haori. His skin was pale, almost as white as death. Age had ravaged him. There were dark lines around his eyes, and a scar across one side of his face.

Jiraiya stared. He coughed and covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve as the stench of rotting increased.

His shadow clone actually threw up, since he couldn't spare a hand to cover his nose with. He still had to hold onto Kusanagi's hilt. "Nasty," Jiraiya number two complained.

Orochimaru looked at Jiraiya with glittering eyes, cold hatred frozen there for an eternity. He traced the scar on his face. "Yes…you left me this the last time we fought. As a matter of vanity, I do prefer to cover it up…but you have ruined my meat suit."

"Oh, god," Jiraiya said. "You're really over the deep end."

"Long ago," Orochimaru agreed pleasantly. "Now die." He made a hand seal against his throat and blew purple smoke.

Jiraiya's eyes widened. _Poison._

And it was a windless day.

Jiraiya leapt back, but the billowing clouds of purple smoke spread in all directions, much too quickly. He looked around wildly. _Is this really how it ends?_

The poison might not kill him outright, but if he got poisoned, he would fight slower and slower, until Orochimaru could finally strike the killing blow.

Smoke was everywhere…

Jiraiya flinched and covered his mouth and nose as much as he could.

"Not so fast," someone called.

Then a swift wind blew the clouds of smoke away. Jiraiya's long hair billowed out in the direction of the wind, the gust was so fierce. He lowered his arm from his nose and mouth and grinned at Orochimaru's chagrin.

The wind died down, and Jiraiya knew who was standing with him even before he looked. He looked over his shoulder. A blinding grin spread across his face. "Baki!"

Baki walked up to join him by his side and stopped when they were shoulder to shoulder. "That's right." He gave Jiraiya a nod. Then he turned his attention to Orochimaru, his gaze cold. "You can't have my brother."

"You're second cousins, once removed," Orochimaru said. His hair was disheveled by the blast of wind Baki had created, and raw lines contempt stood out around his mouth.

Jiraiya flinched and glared at Orochimaru angrily.

"Not anymore," Baki said. He reached up and squeezed Jiraiya's shoulder. "We're not removed. We're brothers."

Jiraiya blinked, disarmed by that touch to his shoulder. Then he regained his grin, with new force. "Yeah! And you can't take either of us down!"

The shadow clone Jiraiya had created popped up from underneath the sand, his haori covering him. He tossed his haori aside and shook sand out of his hair. "Yeah! Me, too!" He still held onto Kusanagi, which made sense. The sword hadn't put up any fight since Orochimaru blocked visual contact with the poison smoke.

"Hey, that was clever," Jiraiya said, gesturing at the haori.

"You would have thought of it if you'd still been wearing yours," his shadow clone said modestly. Then he waved. "Hi, Baki."

"Hi," Baki said wryly, smiling in spite of himself.

"I'm a shadow clone," Jiraiya number two announced.

"I guessed as much," Baki said.

The shadow clone grinned and chuckled. He crossed over to stand on the other side of Baki. "Now you've got three brothers to deal with," he informed Orochimaru.

Jiraiya laughed. "Oh, no. Three? Three Akagizume brothers could conquer the world. You don't stand a chance, Orochimaru."

"Shut up!" Orochimaru roared. "Is everything a joke to you?"

"Well, yeah," Jiraiya said. His expression became serious. "Especially you."

They lunged at each other, three against one.

**xXx**

Yondaime stared down at his prisoner. He had anticipated Kabuto regaining consciousness, sealing the man in a gold dust coffin up to Kabuto's neck, confining without crushing.

Kabuto came around with a moan, struggling for a moment as he found himself completely immobilized from the neck down. Finally, he opened his eyes, squinting against the sun. A smirk appeared on his face as he saw Yondaime staring back at him. "Oh, well done," he said with a laugh. "I'll have you know it isn't easy to immobilize me."

"That would be why the Fourth Kazekage is guarding you personally, while others fight your master," Yondaime said evenly.

Kabuto let his head drop back down against the sand. "I am honored."

Yondaime thought there was rather a lot of dishonor involved. "Why did you do it?"

"Hmm?" Kabuto raised an eyebrow, then looked away, across the desert at the distant battlefield. "Our orders were attack you unless you were a pushover, you know."

"Not that," Yondaime said. That he could actually understand. "I mean why you joined up with Orochimaru."

"For the reasons I said," Kabuto said.

"But he's killed countless people," Yondaime insisted. "He's murdered men, women, and children with his genetic experiments, and his blind lust for power. He's a serial killer. A psychopath. And a narcissist." He'd been aware of Orochimaru before meeting Jiraiya, but the personal insights Jiraiya shared painted a grisly picture of overall mental unwellness.

Kabuto rolled his head to one side, as if he would shrug if he could. "I'm not saying that I condone what he does, or that I'm a personal fan like Kimimaro-san." He smiled sardonically. "Now, Kimimaro-san would tell you that you are off-base for referring to our great leader as a serial killer." His gaze fell at the wreck of bones lying still some fifty yards away. "But Kimimaro-san is dead, isn't he?"

"I hope so," Yondaime said frankly.

Kabuto laughed. "At least you're honest. A step up from the Leaf scum I deal with."

"You have a lot of hatred in you for someone so young," Yondaime said.

Kabuto rolled his eyes. "You don't have to have age to hate."

Yondaime thought back to Gaara. "No…I suppose not." He looked out across the desert at the distant battlefield. The remote figures of Jiraiya and Orochimaru, and now Baki, were still fighting. He couldn't make out from here what was going on, and he didn't want to waste chakra by sending a floating eye to investigate. Not to mention what that would do to his concentration. He had a feeling Kabuto would require much of his attention. The rogue medical ninja was far too glib and collected for the situation.

_Baki…Jiraiya…be safe. _


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

* * *

Yondaime belatedly realized that Shimeru, standing a safe distance away, had been silent for a long time. Probably thinking about Chounin. He tried to think if there was anything he could give Shimeru to do, to snap the man out of his daze.

There was.

He turned to his guard, putting on his full command persona. "Go back to Suna. Report what you've seen here. You're our only credible witness, Shimeru. You have to survive this."

"Hai!" Shimeru took off running.

Yondaime took a deep breath and nodded. That was one less person to worry about. And now they would be covered when they came back and reported that the Sound alliance was a trap.

That left…

Yondaime looked down at Kabuto. "Why are you so calm?" He exerted a little pressure for motivation, squeezing down on Kabuto with his gold dust.

"Because you're doing it wrong," Kabuto wheezed.

Yondaime let up. "Wrong?"

"You can cut down Orochimaru if you want, but if won't make any difference," Kabuto said.

"Why?" Yondaime kept his questions short and clipped. This was not a conversation. It was an interrogation.

"Because he has become his True Essence," Kabuto said. Yondaime didn't have to squeeze. Kabuto continued on his own. "A jutsu that is not forbidden, but is extremely ancient. The same jutsu that created the tailed beasts."

"Are you saying Orochimaru is a tailed beast?" Yondaime demanded.

Kabuto laughed. "No." His amusement wavered in the face of Yondaime's expression. "I am saying, however, that he can fold himself inside of other people like one."

Yondaime's eyes widened.

"There were dark days in the ancient past," Kabuto said. "A time when bijuu chose their hosts, and not the other way around. When tailed beasts were in control. Orochimaru took lessons from their uprising. If he is cut down in human form, he will merely be reduced to spirit form, capable of possessing whomever he chooses." Kabuto's teeth flashed in a humorless smile. "It may be Jiraiya. It may be Baki. It may be you, or I…"

"Why are you telling me this?" Yondaime asked.

"Because Orochimaru is dangerous," Kabuto said in a low voice. "And perhaps I am frightened." He shifted, turning his head. "Perhaps everything is not as it seems…Sabaku no Kyou."

Yondaime flinched. "How did you learn that name?"

"The same way I got this post," Kabuto said. "As part of ROOT, Konoha's underground ANBU forces."

Yondaime went numb with shock. "Underground ANBU?" he whispered.

Kabuto nodded. "ANBU forces so secret that no one is allowed to know we exist. The organization went truly underground when Sarutobi Hiruzen, the third Hokage, officially disbanded ROOT, in order to give his friend Shimura Danzo cover and deniability." The same cheerful, soulless smile surfaced. "Two important things for a secret organization."

"Then why haven't you…" Yondaime began, horrified.

Kabuto's smile widened. "Stopped him? I can't. I'm inferior. My job is to occupy an observation post and cooperate with whatever Orochimaru wants." He snorted. "Jiraiya-sama probably doesn't realize that I left a trail of clues for him on purpose, so that he would eventually catch up to this point. I'm afraid, though, that I didn't leave enough clues about Orochimaru's plan and capabilities. I was hampered somewhat by the –" He choked down a laugh. " –loyal and fanatical Kimimaro."

He glanced over at the lifeless bones sticking up from under the sand. "Nice job, by the way. Truly superior. You might stand a chance of defeating Orochimaru if you're at full strength."

"Right now?" Yondaime prompted, looking over at the distant battlefield. Small figures still fighting.

Kabuto shook his head. "Jiraiya-sama doesn't stand a chance. He's just going to release Orochimaru's spirit into the world. Then we'll have a new problem to deal with."

"What if he knew?" Yondaime asked. "If he knew what was going to happen, could he do something about it?" His mind raced with possibilities. Sealing ceremonies. _We learned how to control the bijuu, after all. _

Kabuto's expression froze. He slowly turned his gaze towards the distant battlefield. "He might be clever enough to adjust…"

"What will you do if I leave to join the battlefield?" Yondaime demanded.

"Escape," Kabuto said. "That's my job."

"But you won't attack?" Yondaime pressed.

"Not at this moment," Kabuto said. "I'll think up a likely excuse if I am later confronted by Orochimaru."

Yondaime retracted his gold sand. It peeled away from Kabuto's body in drifts.

Kabuto got to his feet, smirking. "Right now, you have bigger things to worry about than me, ne?"

Yondaime realized this was a request for a cover story. He nodded. "I'll merely say that they needed me more in battle than as a guard. Go." He turned and created a gold disk, then leapt onto it and took off for the distant battle, full speed. The wind stung his eyes and blew back his hair. He planted his feet and squinted. _I'm coming._

**xXx**

Jiraiya turned to his shadow clone. "Take that thing somewhere safe!" He pointed to the sword in his clone's hands.

"Hai!" Jiraya number two ran off with Kusanagi.

Orochimaru was furious, but Jiraiya and Baki attacked him from both sides at once, forcing him to give up control of his sword.

Baki and Jiraiya tried a combined wind and fire attack, using Baki's wind release to amplify Jiraiya's Katon. Orochimaru proved still the stronger at water release, though.

Still, Jiraiya pressed on.

"What do you think is going to stop me from dicing you into bitty bits?" Jiraiya asked. "Cause I guarantee you, you're wrong. I owe you a lot of pain, Orochimaru. I'm not holding back."

Orochimaru laughed. "Brave speech for a man who could never best me, even as children!"

"But I'm not alone," Jiraiya said. "I have my brother with me."

Orochimaru's eyes flashed. "Your bond is a joke. You can't be brothers just because you say so."

"On the contrary," Baki said. "We can. We're the ones who decide what we are to each other. Not other people. You have no right to dictate our relationship to each other, and neither does anyone else. That is something between him, and me. And we've decided: We're brothers. Moreover, age order doesn't count. I'm the older brother." He created a wind blade in each hand. "So you better get ready for an older brother's wrath."

He charged. "You've been picking on my little brother for far too long without any recrimination." Baki threw the wind blades in his hands like kunai, at point blank range.

Orochimaru dodged, his face frozen with disbelief. He avoided Baki's slashing attacks by a hair's breadth.

Baki formed more wind blades, undeterred, and kept up the attack, throwing whistling, cutting air.

Jiraiya jumped into the fight with Ame no Habakiri, giving Orochimaru two maddened swordsmen to evade.

Orochimaru didn't have time to form hand seals. He was forced purely on the defensive. Several of Baki's wind blades scored shallow hits, making him bleed. Jiraiya considered this an encouraging sign. The corpse body Orochimaru had inhabited hadn't bled at all.

"You miscreants!" Orochimaru snapped. "You have no idea what you are doing. If you strike me down here, I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

"You know, that sounds familiar," Jiraiya mused. "But I think it was the good guy in the kabuki play who said that. So, no dice, Orochi."

"It's true," a new voice called.

Jiraiya glanced up at the voice and the blast of wind and sand.

Yondaime leapt off of his gold disk and immediately commanded his gold dust to wrap around Orochimaru, holding the man tight. That done, he looked to Jiraiya. "He's been goading you. He wants you to kill him, so that he can be released from his physical form."

"What?" Jiraiya stared at him.

"Kabuto said that Orochimaru has turned himself into the equivalent of a bijuu," Yondaime said. "A spirit creature."

Jiraiya flinched and looked at Orochimaru in shock.

Baki lowered his hands, dispelling his wind blades.

"Kabuto told you that, ne?" Orochimaru murmured. His expression dangerously hovered at cold rage. "I can't imagine why…"

"Maybe your companion wanted to live," Yondaime said.

Orochimaru narrowed his eyes. "I'll deal with him later. First, you, Kazekage-sama, have signed your death warrant."

"I would have recalled seeing something like that on my desk," Yondaime said mildly. "I think not."

Jiraiya snickered.

Orochimaru gritted his teeth and looked at Jiraiya with annoyance.

"So what do we do with him?" Jiraiya asked Yondaime. "We can't just let him go running amok because if we kill him, he'll get 'more powerful than we can possibly imagine'."

Yondaime snorted. "More powerful than we can imagine? Hardly. He's still the same man. Only in spirit form. He's no tailed beast. Kabuto clarified that point for me."

"You need better help, Orochi-chan," Jiraiya said. "Seems like Kabuto betrayed you completely."

"More like I just offered to crush him into a pulp if he didn't agree to tell me what I wanted to know," Yondaime said dryly, trying to preserve Kabuto's cover. "Everyone has self-preservation."

"My disciple, it seems, a particularly strong one," Orochimaru drawled. "Although misguided."

"Because you're getting out of here, right?" Jiraiya asked. "Even though we've got you trapped?"

"It never ceases to amaze me how you fail to put together the simplest bits of information," Orochimaru said. His eyes flooded with darkness. "What makes you think I can't shed my body on my own if I please to do so?"

A smooth black smoke emerged from Orochimaru's mouth like a cloud of ink.

"Oh, damn." Jiraiya backed away hastily. "What do we do, Yondaime? What do we do?"

"You've fought a spirit before," Yondaime said. "You know what to do. We seal him."

"In what?" Jiraiya exclaimed.

Yondaime wordlessly formed his gold dust into a jar.

A smile of amazement spread across Baki's face. "Brilliant, Yondaime."

Yondaime nodded.

The black smoke spiraled up, growing as they talked. It was unclear whether Orochimaru could hear them.

Yondaime withdrew his gold dust from Orochimaru's body, letting it fall to the ground with a crunch of sand.

"How big is he going to get?" Jiraiya asked rhetorically, watching the black smoke still growing.

Baki's eyes widened. He tilted his head all the way up. "I recognize this shape – It's –"

"A snake," Yondaime said flatly.

At that precise moment, amber eyes opened in the head of the shadow beast, and its form solidified to gleaming black coils.

"Aw, shit," Jiraiya said.

"Better begin the sealing ceremony soon," Baki said to Jiraiya. "Like now."

Jiraiya leapt out of the way of a coil that tried to crush him. "I'd like a little help!"

Yondaime tossed the jar he'd made to Baki. "Got it. I fight him while you and Baki do the sealing ceremony." He created a gold disk and leapt on it, swooping around a lashing tail.

"Be careful!" Baki called. He ran to Jiraiya, leaping high over a coil of the immense snake that Orochimaru was now.

"Cover me," Jiraiya said. "While I'm doing this I won't be able to make seals to defend myself…" He was pale, but resolute, weaving the first seals with his hands as he spoke. "If I pause, the jutsu gets broken…so just make sure I can still go on…"

"I'm not going to let you down," Baki assured him.

Yondaime circled Orochimaru carefully, avoiding any attacks. His first move was to wrap his gold dust around the snake's mouth, trying to seal it shut. He didn't want to be poisoned; neither did he want anyone else to suffer the effects of being poisoned.

Orochimaru snapped at the gold dust for an instant before it took hold, binding his mouth shut.

"Yeah, what's it like not having arms?" Jiraiya called, his hands moving in complicated patterns. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

Baki was forced to put up a barrier of churning wind as Orochimaru turned on Jiraiya and tried to wrap around the both of them like a boa constrictor. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that." He grunted. Sand churned around them as if they stood in the eye of a tornado. "I can't hold him back forever, you know."

"Sorry," Jiraiya mumbled.

Yondaime molded giant hands out of his gold dust and gestured, picking up Orochimaru's coil and flinging it back, using almost the full strength of his magnetism release in order lift Orochimaru's bulk.

"I need you to paint these on the jar," Jiraiya said quickly. His hands didn't falter. "Ram, boar, deer. Dragon, bear. Ox. Clockwise."

"With what?" Baki asked. "I don't have a brush or ink –"

"Unseal the scroll at my side, here. The left side. Red cap." Jiraiya gestured by shifting his weight, wagging his hip at Baki.

Baki quickly grabbed the scroll and unsealed it. He knelt on the hot sand, using the first brush he could grab, dipping it in Jiraiya's ink well and scrawling the symbols Jiraiya had instructed. "Done."

"Great," Jiraiya said. "Now comes the hard part." He could feel beads of sweat forming on his face. "This won't kill me, since we're not creating a jinchuuriki…" He added in a mumble, "Hopefully."

It wouldn't be the worst way to die – sealing Orochimaru forever so his evil never got out to taint the world was undeniably heroic – but Jiraiya would rather live to be able to enjoy his success.

Baki stood, watching the jar Yondaime had created carefully. The symbols he'd painted began to glow. "It's working," he said, mostly to himself.

**xXx**

Kankuro was openly chewing on his lip. "Oh, god," he groaned. "Why isn't Dad back yet?" It was two in the afternoon, and he was finally hungry. But now he couldn't eat because he was too nauseous.

"You need to eat something," Aio insisted. "You can't keep worrying on an empty stomach. It's not healthy. You'll make yourself sick."

"I can't help it," Kankuro said. He flopped over on the couch and draped his arm over his eyes.

"I'll get the cook to make you a spicy salmon roll," Aio said. "You'll eat that."

Kankuro couldn't disagree. Spicy salmon maki sushi was his favorite food. He couldn't resist it when it was wafted right under his nose.

Aio took that as an agreement and ran to the kitchen to recruit the cook into Plan: Feed Kankuro.

Kankuro knew it had been right of their father to leave Aio and Josei with them. Other people would have let Kankuro worry himself sick without saying a word, probably out of some misguided feeling of respect. Kankuro didn't need someone to respect him. He needed someone to take care of him.

_And that is why I will absolutely die if I lose Dad._ He'd already decided. He wasn't as strong as his dad. There was no way he could survive knowing who his true love was, having him, and then losing him, all in the space of a month. It was too much. _Besides, Tousan had loads more time with Mom before he had to say goodbye. It isn't fair, Tousan dying now. Before I've even had a chance to finish growing up, so he can see what kind of man I'll be. It's not right._


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

* * *

Shimeru suddenly teleported into the living room, by himself, looking significantly the worse for wear compared to this morning.

"Shimeru!" Kankuro scrambled to his feet. "Oh my god, what's going on?"

"Your father is fighting Orochimaru," Shimeru said quickly. "The Sound alliance is a trap. I have to report to the Council. Kazekage-sama's orders." He teleported out in a puff of smoke, not his usual graceful transition.

Kankuro turned to Aio and Josei. "We're going to Father."

"You're damn right we are!" Aio was already on his feet, as was Josei.

"We're coming, too," Gaara said. It wasn't a request. Kankuro could tell by the look in his brother's eyes that Gaara had already decided.

Kankuro nodded. "You bet you are."

**xXx**

Beads of sweat rolled down Jiraiya's temple, to his jaw. His teeth were gritted, and he was shaking. _This is going to bring me dangerously close…dangerously close to dying… _

Seals had been Minato's specialty, but he was the one who had helped Minato study them. Without long hours of hacking through scrolls with him, Minato wouldn't have been an expert, either. He'd known all of the best places to go to study, all of the most renowned seal masters. He'd bribed half of them with sake and gambling bets. The shinobi world was a lot like the civilian world, in that there was an old boy's club one had to know how to network with in order to get certain benefits.

Baki kept a wary eye on the battle between his sensei and Orochimaru, keeping silent about how Jiraiya looked.

Jiraiya was grateful. _I know I must look like shit_. He wouldn't be surprised if Baki gave him a lecture after this was over.

Yondaime couldn't spare a glance to see what the others were doing. He had his hands full controlling Orochimaru's coils so that no one got crushed. His giant gold dust hands mimicked the movements he made with his real hands. He caught Orochimaru's lashing coil and shoved it back, protecting the spot where Baki and Jiraiya stood. Baki's wind shield was up, but Yondaime doubted it could withstand the sheer force of a ten ton snake coil smashing into it.

His arms hurt. He could feel lines of burning pain etched down the backs of his arms, where his veins were. His hands were numb from it. _I'm overusing my chakra channels. _Too many large jutsu one after the other could do that. If this battle didn't end soon, he might have to go to a med nin for help healing.

Not to mention that Yondaime's vision was blurry from chakra loss, and he was lightheaded. Crushing Kimimaro had taken a significant part of his chakra. _If I had come alone with Chounin and Shimeru…I wouldn't have stood a chance. _

He glanced up at the enormous, furious eyes of Orochimaru-the-snake. He wished that he could just put a gold dust lance through Orochimaru's eye. But if he killed this body, Orochimaru would just turn into smoke and reform sometime later. And smoke was a lot harder to fight than a physical form, even a giant snake.

Yondaime was startled by the sudden ringing sound in his ears, and the simultaneous appearance of glowing chains wrapping around Orochimaru's body, chains made of pure chakra. _Jiraiya's sealing ceremony! It's working!_

Orochimaru whipped his head back with panic, thrashing against the ghostly chains. Suddenly, he snapped through the gold dust bonds around his jaw. Gold dust split with an ear-shattering crack and sifted off, releasing Orochimaru's shriek. "No!"

Then he lunged, quite predictably, for Jiraiya.

Yondaime shot between the Sannin and threw up a gold dust barrier. "Stop!" The word was more to crystallize his command to his gold dust than it was an order to Orochimaru.

Orochimaru slammed into his barrier, forcing Yondaime back about ten feet. Yondaime panted.

"You can't do this to me! I am –"

He hastily shoved his gold dust into Orochimaru's mouth, trying to make a plug. Orochimaru choked and spluttered. If the situation weren't so dire, it would have been funny. _Jiraiya, hurry…_ Yondaime knew he didn't have to say it.

Jiraiya involuntarily increased the speed with which his hands flowed through making the seals. It wasn't a reaction to almost being eaten by Orochimaru. He felt the telltale tug of the sealing ceremony taking hold. _Can't stop now…_ Heat ignited inside his body, as if the sealing ceremony had lit his chakra like a candle. _This is it. I'll either make it or I won't. _

**xXx**

Kankuro, Temari, and Gaara got ready the fastest they ever had. They were out the door with Aio and Josei in moments. Once they hit the outskirts of the village, though, their task sank in.

"The Head Stone is at least an hour away!" Kankuro exclaimed in frustration.

"I can go faster," Gaara said flatly. He summoned a disk of sand underneath everyone's feet and lifted it, sending the disk careening over the air like a skipping stone. The people around him barely had time to keep from falling off. He appeared not to notice.

Kankuro grinned. _That's my ototo._ He crouched, carefully keeping his balance.

"This is so cool!" Aio yelled against the force of the wind. "Gaara, you're a badass!"

Josei looked at his partner incredulously.

Gaara commendably kept control of his jutsu, but he looked flustered.

"Yeah!" Temari chimed in. "This rocks!"

_We're gonna make it in time now, _Kankuro silently agreed. He didn't want to yell into the wind. He crept forward against the force of the wind blowing him back and squeezed Gaara's shoulder.

Gaara didn't look up, but he blushed.

**xXx**

Orochimaru struggled, but the chakra chains were solid now, solid enough to hold him back. He shook his head back and forth, uselessly trying to dislodge the gold dust plug in his mouth.

Then his eyes narrowed, and with a ripple of powerful muscles, he swallowed.

Yondaime froze. _He just swallowed my gold dust. _

Orochimaru reared back with a hair-raising roar and breathed out a cloud of purple smoke to blot out the sun.

"Yondaime!" Baki yelled.

Yondaime shot out of the way of the roiling clouds, desperately holding his breath. He glanced down and saw that Baki's wind barrier protected his student and Jiraiya from the clouds of poison. _That's good…_

Tendrils of purple smoke clung to his clothing, and he realized as his dizziness and vertigo spun out of control that the poison was seeping in through the pores of his skin. His control slipped, and he fell to his knees onto the rapidly dissolving disk of gold dust.

"Yondaime!" Baki yelled again, agonized.

Yondaime peeled off his martial arts jacket, but that was as far as he got. Wind ripped the jacket out of his fingers, and the last thing that he saw was Orochimaru turning into translucent smoke and spiraling into the vessel that he had created with his magnetism release. _We did it…_

He hit the desert floor with a crunch of sand and blacked out.

**xXx**

Jiraiya's haze cleared as soon as the last pulses of the sealing ceremony faded out of his body. He found himself on his knees in front of the golden vessel Yondaime had created. The symbols were still glowing. _I'm alive…_

Then he realized Baki wasn't with him. His head snapped up. Jiraiya looked around wildly and saw Baki twenty feet away, pulling Yondaime into his arms. A limp Yondaime.

"Oh, no…" Jiraiya scrambled to his feet, brushing sand from his knees, and ran to them. For once, it was a run that lacked any grace at all. It was the exhausted stumbling of a child, and the sand slipping out from under his feet at every step almost made him fall more than once. But he didn't care.

He dropped to his knees beside Baki, taking in Yondaime's paleness and shallow breathing. He took Yondaime's pulse. "Still steady…"

"He's been poisoned," Baki said. "While you were completing the ceremony…"

Jiraiya didn't see any poison smoke remaining, but realized that was because Baki had dispersed the clouds with his wind release. "I don't know any way to counter Orochimaru's poison."

"I know," Baki said. He looked down at his unconscious sensei and gently brushed Yondaime's hair out of the closed eyes. "It's not your fault."

Jiraiya felt sick. "He'll be dead in fifteen minutes."

"I know. You mentioned that poison before," Baki murmured. "Yondaime-sama was chakra exhausted as well. It might take less to circulate through his system and take him down than it would if he were fully rested."

Jiraiya closed his eyes. _Oh my god. It's all my fault._

"It's not your fault," Baki said, as if reading his thoughts.

_No, probably just my face,_ Jiraiya reminded himself. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's Yondaime's fault for being too brave, and Orochimaru's fault for being too evil," Baki said.

"It's not Yondaime's fault at all," Jiraiya corrected. He felt tears drip down his cheeks. "It's my fault. For not defeating Orochimaru sooner. He claimed another life, the life of someone –" He broke off, unable to speak anymore, and covered his eyes with his hand. He hiccupped, holding back a sob.

A strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him tight.

Jiraiya clung to Baki, sobbing.

**xXx**

Kankuro almost had a heart attack when the battlefield came into view. He saw exactly what he didn't want to see: Baki and Jiraiya clustered around a fallen Yondaime. _No, not my dad. Not my dad…_ He wanted to throw up.

Josei and Aio leapt down from the disk before Gaara had even stopped, running the rest of the way to join Baki and Jiraiya.

Gaara set the sand disk down quickly, and Kankuro took off, running to them.

He was in time to hear Josei ask, "What happened?"

"Poisoned," Baki said. "Yondaime-sama's been poisoned. He's dying…"

"Are you guys alright?" Kankuro asked, looking from Baki to Jiraiya.

Baki looked startled at Kankuro's sudden appearance. "We're fine, I had up a wind barrier, but Yondaime-sama –"

"He was outside the barrier?" Kankuro yelled.

"He had to be," Baki helplessly tried to explain.

"Had to be?" Kankuro yelled. "Why did he have to be?"

Baki shrank back.

"Answer me!" Kankuro clenched his hands into fists.

Jiraiya just shook his head, numb. "He was fighting Orochimaru while I did the sealing ceremony…"

That didn't make any sense. Kankuro massaged his brow, beside himself. He started pacing. "Well, someone has to do something. You can't just sit around –"

"Give me room," Gaara said. He walked up and knelt beside his father, placing his hand on Yondaime's chest.

"What are you –" Jiraiya asked, startled.

"Shut up," Gaara said.

Jiraiya shut up, closing his mouth smartly.

Gaara frowned in concentration. A pulse of green light burst out from his hand. He reached inside of Yondaime's chest, his hand slipping in as if through a portal, and pulled out a crystal bauble with something purple splashing inside of it. He handed the translucent globe off to Kankuro. Then he reached in again.

By the time he pulled out the third sphere, Yondaime was a normal color again.

"Amazing," Jiraiya whispered.

Gaara opened his eyes and gave Jiraiya a flat, emotionless stare. "This is not the way to do it. But I improvised."

Jiraiya patted him on the back and laughed. "You improvised. Well, you're a hell of improviser! You should be a med nin, Gaara."

Gaara pulled out a fourth sphere, only half full compared to the others.

Yondaime woke up, his eyelids fluttering open. He saw Gaara first, then looked at Baki and Jiraiya with wonder. "I can breathe again." He looked back to Gaara, at the globe in Gaara's hand, filled with poison. "You saved me."

Gaara looked at his father with wide eyes. The ball fell from his hand.

Kankuro hastily caught it and set it aside with the others. He'd heard that these samples could be used to distill an antidote. An antidote to Orochimaru's poison would be handy to have, even if Orochimaru was sealed up. One never knew what could happen.

Yondaime's eyes filled with tears, and he suddenly pulled Gaara into a tight hug, stroking Gaara's hair. "I love you…I've loved you since the day you were born." Then he just cried, unable to speak any more.

Gaara trembled in his father's arms, then burst out crying hysterically, clinging to his father in return.

Kankuro paused, looking down at Gaara and their father with wide eyes. He realized with a sweeping sense of awe that he was watching the reconciliation he never thought would happen. Gaara and Dad…they're okay now. He felt tears in his eyes.

Temari tapped him on the shoulder, turned him to face her, and gave him a hug.

He hugged her tightly in response.

_We're okay now. We're all okay._

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is not the last chapter. So stay tuned. ;p_  
_


	36. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

* * *

They gathered around Yondaime's bed. Yondaime was propped up with pillows. Every flat surface in the bedroom was covered with bouquets and get well cards.

Kankuro choked back a laugh. "Guess you're more popular than you thought you were, huh, Dad?"

Yondaime smiled ruefully. "They just keep coming." He gently ran fingers over the card attached to the nearest bouquet of flowers. They were desert lilies, hibiscus, and cactus blossoms. It made a rather spectacular display, a riot of red and purple hibiscus, bright yellow cactus flowers, and white lilies. Then he smiled at his youngest son. "Of course, these ones are from Gaara."

Gaara blushed to the roots of his hair. "When one is sick and needs to get better, others send flowers. I have learned this."

Baki choked, and laughed. "Yes, well…that is an important lesson to learn. Given how we seem to put ourselves in harm's way."

"Some of us more than others," Jiraiya said, looking at Yondaime critically.

Yondaime flushed. "Well…I had to, didn't I?"

"Could've been behind the wind barrier with us, that's all I'm sayin'," Jiraiya said. "Magnetism release is a long range jutsu. You didn't need to be right there up in Orochimaru's face."

"It was more fun that way," Yondaime said lamely.

Kankuro came over and sat down on the edge of his father's bed, giving Yondaime a stern look. "Then have less fun."

"Yes, Kankuro." Yondaime winced.

"Having fun off of the battlefield is fine," Kankuro said. "Just don't put yourself in harm's way like that again."

"Well, I can't like that," Yondaime said. "Orochimaru is sealed now." He grinned in the face of Kankuro's exasperation.

"You know what I mean," Kankuro said. "No more heroics."

"I knew everything would turn out for the best," Yondaime asserted.

"Don't test my faith." Kankuro gave his father a flat look.

Yondaime swallowed his smile and grew serious. "Yes, son." He squeezed Kankuro's hand.

Kankuro felt somewhat better.

When they'd returned to Suna and taken Yondaime to the hospital to be checked out, the medical ninjas had definitively grounded him in bed. Even with Gaara saving his life, he was weak from chakra exhaustion. He could lift a pair of chopsticks. That was about it. He'd protested that if he could lift chopsticks, he could lift a pen, which meant he could go back to work, but no one had bought it.

A few days had passed, but they could tell Yondaime's chakra wasn't back up to normal. They were all taking turns enforcing Yondaime's bed rest, when they weren't gathering around Yondaime as a group. Gaara stood on one side of the bed, while Kankuro sat down on the opposite edge. Temari was clearing away any loose leaves or petals from the bouquets on their father's writing desk, trying to keep things clean. She was a hardcore feminist, but she was also OCD about things like that.

Jiraiya came through the bedroom door, dressed in a white haori with red writing on it, a giant scroll strapped to his back. He carried the golden jar that contained Orochimaru under one arm. "Just got back from the temple, Yondaime. They say it's good. The seal should last a hundred years, at least."

"That's a sobering thought," Yondaime said. "Having to renew the seal or else risk an immortal spirit creature ravaging your home."

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Baki muttered.

Jiraiya laughed. "Shukaku doesn't seem to be much of a problem anymore. Gaara's got him under control."

Gaara nodded. "I have since learned that hatred does nothing but separate one from the rest of humanity. Separation breeds loneliness, and loneliness breeds more hatred. It is nothing but a cycle which is guaranteed to degrade the soul."

Jiraiya scratched his cheek, looking startled and sheepish. "About that…"

"Has your soul been degraded by your years of solitary travel?" Baki teased lightly. "I hope you'll let me shore it up for you."

Jiraiya flushed and looked away.

"We all will," Kankuro said. "You're stuck with us, now."

Jiraiya gave the floor a small, flustered smile. He considered the golden vessel in his arms. "You know…I wonder what legends people will think up about this in the years to come. They'll probably start calling Orochimaru a demon." He glanced at them. "I wonder if Shukaku started out this way: a human who turned himself into a spirit in a bid for immortality. You said Kabuto called this technique ancient."

Yondaime nodded. "I did. Kabuto did say that. He claimed it was a technique the Sage of Six Paths used."

"That's not entirely out of the question," Kankuro said. "After all, we've learned that the Sage of Six Paths was a real person…"

"That's right," Jiraiya agreed. "And maybe sometime we'll have to shift Orochimaru to a different vessel, like you guys might have done with Shukaku."

"What do you mean?" Kankuro asked. "I thought Shukaku was always kept in that tea kettle."

"There's a legend that says the first vessel that held Shukaku was an empty sake bottle," Jiraiya said. "Someone was brave enough to challenge him to a drinking contest and sealed him inside. They said it didn't count unless he drank the last drops from the bottom of the bottle, so he went inside to drink the last drops of sake and got trapped."

Yondaime laughed, surprised. "You have been soaking up local folklore, haven't you?"

"Been hard at work," Jiraiya agreed. "I love that stuff. I wasn't just gathering information on the Sound spy. I pumped the bars for local folklore, too."

Baki shook his head. "Work and pleasure always overlap for you, don't they?"

"It's more organic that way," Jiraiya said. "I like to live organically."

Baki snorted. "So that's why you're never in one place more than a few weeks at a time. You're 'organic'."

"Right," Jiraiya agreed.

"That's a great way to live," Baki said. "If you don't have any responsibilities."

Jiraiya pouted.

Kankuro grinned, relieved. They were back to ribbing each other. He'd noticed when they first got back to Suna, Baki had been in a far more protective mood. And Jiraiya hadn't had his usual smile. He wondered what words they had exchanged in the desert.

It was none of his business, but he was curious. _Call it the writer in me…but I wonder if it was romantic. _He'd finally found out what kind of books Jiraiya wrote by looking through the local public library, and found out they had something in common. They both wrote romance stories, and they were both men. Most of the romance market was cornered by women. Kankuro thought that had meant that his works would never be published, but Jiraiya was clearly very popular, since his most recent books were marked 'Now a bestseller!'

Kankuro briefly imagined a book of his own emblazoned with such enthusiastic support. _Maybe someday…when I'm done with being a shinobi_. _Like Jiraiya_. Jiraiya had spent many years of service before becoming a writer.

"Well, I better go." Jiraiya looked regretful.

"You're leaving?" Baki asked.

"Oh, you know…" Jiraiya hefted the golden jar and tucked it under his arm. "I've got to deliver this in person. It's going into ANBU lock-up. We're gonna bury this thing so deep it's never coming back out."

"Yeah…" Baki nodded slowly.

Jiraiya looked at his cousin-turned-brother with the same expression for a moment before putting on a bright smile. "But, hey. You guys are coming to Konoha for the Chunin Exam, right? So I'll see you soon enough."

Kankuro had forgotten about the Chunin Exam. _Oh, yeah…I guess it's on, now that we've defeated Orochimaru and stopped the war from happening._ Shimeru's testimony, plus the golden jar with Orochimaru inside, was enough to thoroughly burn the Council on the idea of a war with Konoha any time soon.

Baki took a deep breath, and then smiled. "You're right." He patted Jiraiya's shoulder. "I'll see you soon enough, Ototo."

Jiraiya looked at Baki with mock indignation. He set the golden jar down on Yondaime's nightstand, a space Kankuro kept trying to keep clear for glasses of water and things like that. "What, Ototo doesn't deserve a hug?" He pulled Baki into a bear hug. "Sure I do. C'mon…don't be stingy, Niisan. Hug your Ototo goodbye. I'm from Konoha, remember? It's normal over there."

Baki sighed, rolled his eyes with exasperation, and gave Jiraiya a hug.

Jiraiya chuckled. "That's better."

Kankuro snorted. "Hugs aren't unheard of on this side of the desert," he pointed out. Even though there was a lot of space between Konoha and Suna, Konoha was often called their 'brother village across the desert'.

"You'd never know it to look at Baki's family interacting," Jiraiya said. He pulled away and demonstrated, hovering his hands above Baki's shoulders. "Ah…well…good job." He gave a dry little cough and awkwardly patted Baki's shoulder. Then he grinned at everyone. "They're like that."

"All families are different," Baki protested mildly. He took Jiraiya's arm. "Let me walk you to the door, at least."

Jiraiya beamed. "Okay." He couldn't put up less resistance to the idea.

Baki grinned at Yondaime. "I'll be back in an hour."

"An hour?" Temari asked.

"That's about how long it takes to end a conversation with Jiraiya," Baki said.

"Hey…" Jiraiya pouted. "I'm not that long winded."

"No, but you're practicing," Baki said.

Jiraiya laughed. "Fair enough." He waved. "Bye, all!"

"We look forward to seeing you again," Yondaime said, giving Jiraiya a soft smile.

Kankuro still thought it was a shame that one of his father's only friends was a world-traveling spy who belonged to Konoha.

Jiraiya and Baki exited the room together.

Kankuro looked to his father. "I guess this means we better get packing for the Chunin Exam. If we don't leave tomorrow, we won't get there in time."

Yondaime nodded slowly. "That is exactly what this means."

"It'll be difficult," Kankuro said. _Difficult being separated from you. You're not going to be coming until the second half of the exam._

"It won't be that difficult," Temari objected. "If we could survive this chaos, we can definitely kick butt at the real exam. I mean, nothing's going to be as hard as defusing a war and fighting Orochimaru."

"But we didn't do most of that," Gaara said. "We had to sit through the worry of what would happen to our village. That is merely a psychological test."

"He's right," Kankuro said. "We don't know what all is in the Forest of Death. We've only heard rumors it's bad, and we'll have to fight other teams. That's not the same as being prepared. I mean, some of those genin might be really strong, like us. They might have overprotective fathers who deferred their promotions until they were overqualified, too."

Yondaime gave him a look. "It's not over-protectiveness. I can't afford to lose my children. Karura would come back from the grave to kill me if I did anything to endanger a hair on your heads. You're the most precious things Karura and I have."

Gaara climbed onto the bed and settled into their father's arms, somberly seeking hugs.

Kankuro had to smile at that. "I think we're going to be just fine."

The sight of Yondaime hugging Gaara proved that.


End file.
